


Resistance

by TheKingParrot



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-05-20 14:42:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 28,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19378807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKingParrot/pseuds/TheKingParrot
Summary: This new tale is set in World War II.  As we know, Claire was a nurse at the front in that war.  In this story, I will focus on her experiences and combine them with those of Nancy Wake, 'The White Mouse' (photograph in top left corner of collage).Nancy Grace Augusta Wake, AC, GM was a secret agent during the Second World War. Living in France with her French industrialist husband when the war broke out, Wake slowly became enmeshed with French efforts against the Germans and worked to get people out of France. She was born in Wellington, New Zealand in 1912, and died in England in 2011.  She was given the George Medal, Britain’s second-highest civilian honour, and the Medal of Freedom, the United States’ second highest. France gave her the Legion d’Honneur, the highest military honour it bestows.She once famously told an interviewer: “I don’t see why we women should just wave our men a proud goodbye and then knit them balaclavas.Naturally, any story involving Claire has to include a role for Jamie Fraser.  The tale will obviously be largely fictitious but based on a true story (and Outlander).





	1. A moral compass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter tells how Claire and her husband, Francois, become involved in the French Resistance. Their involvement proves to have serious adverse consequences.

 

 

 

 

 

 

As she lay in a French ditch in 1942, covered in dead leaves and wearing camouflage, she reflected on how the hell it had come to this.  When she left home to work as a journalist in France, she could never have imagined that she would be waiting for British aircraft to land in a field, guided by her and a few torches.  That she would have learned enough nursing to save lives.  That she would be a member of the French resistance.  That she would also have learned ‘silent killing’.

Four years before, in 1938, she and her wealthy husband, Francois, had been in Vienna on a brief business trip when she saw a man being beaten with a whip simply because he was Jewish.  She had taken photos of the Nazi stormtrooper who was wielding the whip and was threatened as the camera was grabbed from her hands by a second stormtrooper.  Her reaction as a journalist had been immediate – get proof to support the story you were about to write.  Fearing for her safety, Francois had dragged her away.

Germany had invaded France in May 1940.  Charles de Gaulle, a French political leader, had fled to London in June and called for the French to establish a resistance.  Fearing this might happen since her experience in Vienna, Claire had been volunteering at a charity hospital in the poorest area of Paris.  Mother Hildegarde, the nun in charge of running _L’Hôpital des Anges_ , had said she was a born healer.  She had learned a lot about nursing in her time there.  As a political observer and journalist, she knew that life-saving skills would be urgently needed in the event of war.  Having said that, the situation had escalated a lot faster than she’d anticipated.

Francois, her husband, was a wealthy industrialist.  Despite her concerns, he had maintained his factory in order to keep his workers employed and support the French economy.  He was confident that the conflict would be short-lived, and that Hitler would be defeated in a matter of months.  He was wrong.

When Claire had first moved to France, she spoke very little French.  Francois had met her and invited her to dinner not long after she arrived.  Within months they were married, and her lifestyle changed dramatically.  She went from a small, basic apartment in an ordinary suburb to a luxurious apartment in Avenue Montaigne, in the 8th Arrondissement of Paris.  They lived in luxury, with a household staff of 5.  She was surrounded by wealth and Francois insisted she only buy the best.  He wanted to show off his beautiful wife to the whole of Paris.

Through her old journalist contacts, she met and befriended several members of the resistance including a Scotsman by the name of Ian. (Surnames were avoided and pseudonyms often used to minimise harm to individuals and families.)  He told her that they needed people in the higher echelons of French society to gather information and help fund their activities.  Claire was quickly drawn in.  She was intuitive and could play situations. 

She encouraged Francois to court the highest-ranking officers of the Reichsführer-SS, inviting them to cocktail parties and lavish dinners in their apartment.  She soon knew some of the most influential Nazis by name, knew just how much alcohol she needed to ply them with to make them loose tongued and had them believing that she supported their cause. 

Not all her French contacts were impressed with the company she began to keep, but she knew that what she was doing could save French and allied lives.  She had to bite her tongue when some openly criticised her, something that didn’t come easily to Claire.

The information she gathered went to Ian, who told her he couldn’t tell her how and when it would be used.  What she didn’t know she couldn’t pass on if she became a German suspect.  However, she saw a few examples of timely bombings and booby traps that she was confident were directly related to the information she had collected.

Claire became concerned when Ian brought another member of the resistance to her apartment.  From the moment she met Paul Cole, she felt she couldn’t trust him.   He was only in her home for a few minutes when she insisted that he and Ian leave.  When Ian returned later to speak to her alone, she told him that she would have nothing to do with Paul.  Claire proved to be more perceptive than Ian had anticipated.  Late that night, stormtroopers arrived at the apartment and arrested Francois, accusing him of being an informant.  She looked out to the street as they dragged Francois to a car – Paul was standing there waiting.  He was a collaborator.

Claire was terrified for Francois.  He knew very little about the resistance.  He had provided funds but wasn’t a particularly active member.  She doubted the SS would accept that.  She was with Ian at the hospital the next day, explaining what had happened, when one of the household staff received a parcel.  It contained a few personal effects that belonged to Francois – he was dead.  The staff member rushed to the hospital to warn Claire that they might come for her next: “We need to get you to a safe house Claire.  They’re closing in on you”, Ian told her.

“But Ian, I can’t just disappear.  Francois was my husband.  He was a good man with a business, employees …” Claire began.

“If you stay, you are dead Claire.  Francois wouldn’t want you to die.  What would it achieve?  The SS eliminate anyone they suspect.  If they have killed Francois, they’ll kill you.  We need to get you out _now_ ”, Ian insisted.

“Ian, I’ll go but I’m coming back to fight.  I want to get training so I can come back and avenge Francois’ death.  Most important of all, I need to track down Paul Cole and kill him”, Claire told him with bared teeth.

“Claire, you’re not serious, are you?” Ian said in disbelief.

“Never more.  That bastard will die, preferably at my hand” she replied.

“We’ll see if we can get you out through North France or Belgium.  You can talk to the people training resistance fighters in Britain, but first we need to get you there”, he smiled.

Claire travelled in old trucks, under potatoes on a cart and on foot during the next four days and nights.  There were several aborted attempts to get her out before she was airlifted out of North France to the east coast of England.  She vowed she would return to fight those who had killed her husband and so many French and allied friends.

By the next week she was in Scotland undergoing training.


	2. Manoeuvres

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire arrives in Scotland and begins training for the resistance movement.

 

 

 

 

 

When she first arrived in Scotland, Claire was suffering from exhaustion.  She was allowed 24 hours to rest, rehydrate and recuperate.  Training began in earnest after that.

Day manoeuvres included a wide variety of skills.  People were needed to observe troop movements, detail the weapons they were carrying, and count the number of troops as they passed through towns and villages.  Radio operators needed to be trained to transmit the gathered information to central operations, where the information was analysed, and regional resistance groups were contacted so they could decide on any action to be taken.  Strategy needed to be coordinated.

Safe houses were needed for resistance fighters so they could move from place to place, making them more difficult to track down.  Cooks were needed to feed the fighters and prepare food for them to take with them as they moved at night.  In those safe houses, weapons were cleaned, and ammunition restocked in concealed basements and attics.

Claire was taught to identify the variety of guns used.  She learned to clean, fire and reload all of them.  She learned to use knives in combat, codes to pass on information – even how to disable tanks by putting honey into their fuel.

The medical skills she had learned at the _L’Hôpital des Anges_ proved valuable and were built on.  She learned how to use an emergency surgery kit, to use tourniquets and to use Jube-type blood transfusion apparatus. Unlike many of the other trainees, she wasn’t fazed by blood and gore!

Some of the night manoeuvres did faze her, however.

Always inclined to be somewhat adventurous and mischievous, Claire had broken her leg when she jumped off the roof of her boarding school when a teenager.  She had lain in pain for quite some time, reluctant to call for help when she’d been breaking the rules. Learning how to parachute was going to be a major challenge.

A Scottish Spitfire pilot, Jamie Fraser, was assigned to teach the trainees how to pack a parachute, place it on someone else or yourself – and to jump out of a plane by night. 

Jamie, feeling the RAF needed every man to fight the Luftwaffe, had signed up at 18, becoming one of the youngest ever Spitfire pilots. After intense training, he soon bonded with the flying men of his squadron. In the air, danger is great, but on the ground drinks, sports and girls provided comfort.  Jamie had met his fair share of girls, but in Claire he found an intelligent woman with a hundred reasons _not_ to jump.

Jamie smiled as Claire employed numerous avoidance behaviours: “Claire, ye can pack a parachute like a pro.  Ye’ve helped others to don the darned thing.  What frightens ye about wearing it yerself?”

“I am _not_ frightened!” Claire insisted.  “I just don’t see the point.  I’m going to be on the ground helping others gather the parachute in when they land in France.  It’s just a waste of time.  I could be learning far more useful skills instead of this” Claire insisted.

“Claire, ye never know when ye may need to be airlifted from France and parachute out elsewhere.  Ye have to be ready or ye could put others at risk”, Jamie told her patiently.

“What bloody rubbish.  How many times have _you_ had to parachute out at all, never mind at night?” she said defensively.

“I’ve lost count.  I wouldna be here talking to ye now if I hadna had the skills.  Believe me, I wouldna be teaching ye if I didna believe it could save yer life.  Now, let me help ye put the parachute on and then we’ll go up _in daylight_ so ye can jump” he told her as he lifted her parachute to her shoulders.

In that moment, Jamie saw a side of Claire few people saw.  She teared up and shook: “I can’t Jamie.  I just can’t.  I had a painful break to my leg when I jumped off my boarding house years ago.  Just the thought of jumping makes me feel sick.  Please don’t make me do it.  Please” she begged him.

He melted:  “Claire, you need not be scairt of me, or anyone else as long as I’m with ye.  How would ye feel if I jumped with ye?  I can get someone else to pilot the plane and we can do what’s called a tandem jump.  I’ll be with you from beginning to end.  Will ye try it?”

Claire gave him a broad smile: “You’d do that for me?”

“I would” he replied.  In truth, Jamie had decided he’d do anything for Claire within roughly ten minutes of meeting her.  She was beautiful, intelligent, brave, fun and articulate.  He’d felt attracted to her immediately.  He was delighted to see her go from frightened to grateful at his suggestion.  It made him feel like her protector, a role he would gladly continue.

“Right, I’ll set it up and ye can do a tandem jump with me tomorrow morning”, he smiled.

Claire threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek: “You’re such a darling Jamie.  How can I thank you?”

Without a thought he told her: “Ye can come for a drive with me on Sunday.  I’ll show ye a wee bit of Scotland while ye’re here.”

“I’d like that very much”, she replied.  “I haven’t been to Scotland before.  Where would we go?” she asked.

“I’ll work something out”, he said with delight.  He wondered if it was a bit mean to be glad that she’d broken her leg and needed his support.  He assured himself that it was just serendipity.

The following morning Claire had a light breakfast, concerned that she could regurgitate in a mid-air calamity.  When she was driven to the airfield, she remained nervous.  Her hands were clammy, and her tummy was churning as she walked to the plane, where Jamie and the pilot were waiting.  Jamie could see and feel her fear and did all he could to reassure her.  He explained how a tandem jump worked and introduced her to the pilot, Rupert.

“Rupert’ll take care of us, Claire.  He’s my cousin and wasna keen on parachuting himself but he’s overcome his fears”, Jamie reassured her.

Rupert held his hand out to Claire: “It’s good to meet ye Claire.  Ye’ll no’ get anyone more understanding than Jamie.  Ye’ll be fine.”

As the plane lifted in the air, Claire shook a little and she felt Jamie’s hand on her arm, settling her.  Rupert let them know when they had reached the required altitude and Jamie led her to the opening where they were to jump.  He could feel her pull back a little and firmly but gently guided her: “Now!” he called as they left the plane and entered open air.

As they drifted downward, Jamie was talking to her.  She had no idea what he was saying, but hearing his voice reassured her that she wasn’t alone.  As the plane continued on its flight, Jamie opened the parachute and they drifted down to the fields below.

She remembered that Jamie had told her that she needed to keep her feet moving as they reached the ground.  Eventually, they came to a stop.  Jamie undid the clasp attaching them and Claire found herself lying on the ground beside Jamie looking in to his smiling face.  With a hand each side of his head she kissed him on the lips: “We did it!  We did it!” she squealed.  Jamie pulled her face towards him, kissing her again: “I told you, you need not be scairt as long as ye’re with me.”


	3. In tandem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie takes Claire to see a bit of Scotland.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Over the next few days, Jamie took Claire up for tandem jumps twice.  Rupert thought Jamie was becoming a wee bit infatuated with Claire but chose to say nothing.  He knew that Claire would be returning to France in a few weeks’ time.  A few weeks of happiness in times of war was a good thing, he thought.

When Sunday came, Jamie arrived at Claire’s quarters on an RAF motor bike.  He was carrying a spare helmet for her and a bag containing sandwiches and a thermos flask of tea wrapped in a ground sheet.  Claire emerged wearing pants with a blouse tucked in at the waist, which showed off her shapely body, and smiled: “I’m delighted we’re travelling first class.  I see you’ve even seen to the catering”, she said looking into the bag.

Jamie was a bit bashful: “Aye, well it was the best I could do with the war ‘n’ all.”  He couldn’t get his eyes off her perfect arse as she bent over to look in the bag.

“It’s perfect.  I was a bit concerned we might have to pedal a tandem push bike up the local hills”, she smiled.  “This is luxury.”

Claire donned her jacket and the helmet and jumped on the pillion seat behind Jamie: “Good job I haven’t got a fat arse!  This seat could disappear up your clacker”, she laughed.

There were occasions when Jamie was taken aback by Claire’s slang and swearing, yet it was also part of her charm.  She could say the most unexpected and uncivil things, yet her tendency to laugh and accompany it with a wide smile made it quite endearing.  He wasn’t sure everyone felt the same way, but he loved her for it (most of the time).

They headed along country roads at speed.  Jamie enjoyed the feeling of Claire holding him tight and occasionally resting her head on his back.  He wondered if she enjoyed the physical closeness as well. 

Most of the villages they passed through were very quiet.  Sunday was very much a day of rest and prayer in the local kirks. 

Just as Claire’s bottom was beginning to feel a wee bit sore, Jamie stopped at the ruins of an old cathedral: “Lunch time Sassenach.  This is St Andrew’s Cathedral.  Did ye know St Andrew is the patron saint of Scotland?” he asked.

“I did.  I seem to recall studying the Union Jack and your bit was the blue background with the white cross”, she said shaking her legs and wiggling her bum to get her circulation functioning.  She removed her jacket and helmet and shook her head, her dark curls flowing in the breeze. 

“How old is the cathedral?” she asked.

“Parts of it date back to the 12th century.  The largest cathedral in Scotland.  And over there ye can see the waters I fly over every time I take a Spitfire over Europe”, Jamie told her.  They found an area of grass and a stone wall that protected them from the breeze and sat down on the ground sheet with their sandwiches and coffee, leaning against the stones.

“Why are ye doing it?” Jamie suddenly asked.

“Doing what?  The Resistance?” Claire responded.

“Aye.  Ye could just stay in Britain.  Ye dinna have to take all those risks Claire”, he suggested.

“What kind of person would I be if I just abandoned the country I’ve lived in and hid?  And it’s personal too”, she replied.

“How so, if ye dinna mind me asking”, Jamie said.

“The Nazis killed my husband, Francois.  I’ve seen them beating people for no reason other than the satisfaction they get from it.  Hauling away Jewish families, assaulting suspected homosexuals and terrifying people who’ve done nothing other than try to survive. Hundreds of people put on freight trains and taken away, never to be seen again. They’re sadistic shits.  I can’t sit back and risk them winning the war”, she said with venom.

“I’m sorry about yer husband.  I didna know”, Jamie said feeling a little embarrassed.

“A resistance operator brought a man to our home.  I took an instant dislike to the man and he turned out to be a collaborator.  He told the SS that we were involved with the resistance and they came to our home and took my husband.  By the next day, he was dead.  Ian told me I had to get out of Paris straight away”, Claire explained.

“Who’s Ian?” Jamie asked.

“The resistance operator.  He’s a Scot actually” Claire added.

“Ian what?” Jamie asked suspiciously.

“I don’t know his surname.  We keep our contact details to a minimum.  What you don’t know you can’t tell.”  Claire went on to describe Ian and mock his accent.

“Ian Murray.  I swear ye just described Ian Murray”, Jamie smiled.  “I’ve known him since we were bairns.  My sister, Jenny, is pulling her hair out wondering where he is and what he’s doing.  She doesna hear much.  He said they can use any bit of information to track resistance fighters down.  If she were here, she’d have a million questions for ye”, Jamie told her.

“Well, you can tell her that as of about a month ago, Ian was fine.  The last time I saw him was when he hid me in an old cart full of potatoes to get me out of harm's way and en route to the north of France before the SS found me”, Claire told him with a grin.  “It feels like six months ago.”

“And ye’re going back to that?” Jamie asked.

“I am.  I speak and write fluent French, and obviously English.  That’s vital in resistance work.  We have other fighters who are fluent in German, Dutch, Flemish and other languages.  Then there are a variety of essential skills, like radio operators.  It’s a team effort and we need people with a strong sense of conviction.  The Nazis can’t win”, she said with determination.

“I’ve never met someone quite like ye.  I’ve been out with a few girls but not any who I’d call ‘women of the world’.  Most of them talk about the men going to war and what they’ll do while they’re gone, but not going themselves”, Jamie told her.

“Well, I’m not the type of woman who waves our men goodbye and then knits them balaclavas”, Claire laughed.

“I admire that, but in a way, I wish ye were happy to do that”, Jamie said as his hand held hers.  “I’d very much like to come home to ye after each mission.  To know that ye were safe and waiting for me.”  Jamie pulled her close and kissed her long and hard.  Claire responded just as he hoped she would.  When their lips parted, their foreheads were still touching.  There were a few moments where nothing was said, yet everything was understood.

Claire ran her hand through her hair: “When Francois was killed, I believed I would never find another man who was of the slightest interest to me.  You might have blown that theory out of the bloody water Jamie Fraser!”

Jamie gently pushed her to the ground and kissed her.  Their hands explored one another's bodies.  They both became  quite heated.  When Jamie sat up a little, Claire wiped her lips and smiled: “Jesus H Roosevelt Christ, you are some kisser Jamie” she giggled.

“Well, thank ye.  I’ve had a lot of practice with the kissing but not … well, the whole shebang”, he said blushing.

Claire lay there looking up at him.  He was a beautiful man.  He was young in some ways, mature in others.  His honesty was almost disarming.

“Why? I’m sure there were plenty of young ladies who would’ve liked to accommodate you”, Claire said with a mischevious grin.

“Well, I was always worried that I might get someone pregnant and have a shotgun wedding, for one thing.  But mostly I didna want to make love to someone unless I truly loved them.  I know a lot of men who dinna care about that, but I do.  Does that make sense to ye?” he asked.

“Yes, it does.  My husband is the only man I’ve been with and I’ve had plenty of offers before and since, but I need to have very strong feelings for someone to allow them in my bed.”

Claire stood and started clearing things away. “My emotions are everywhere at the moment. I’m trying to deal with Francois’ death, the war and returning to France. I never expected to meet someone who touched my heart as you do Jamie. I hope you can understand that I don’t want to rush in but I also don’t want to hurt you. You’re too special for that. Let’s think about what we want.”

”I dinna need time to think Claire. I know what I want. I want you.” Jamie held her shoulders and kissed her.


	4. Incurable romantic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie sweeps Claire off her feet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

They walked around the ruins of St Andrew’s Cathedral.  “It’s said the bones of St Andrew are buried here.  The cathedral is in the Gothic style and it hasna been used as a place of worship since the sixteenth century”, Jamie told Claire. 

He watched her as she knelt and squinted at some of the ancient gravestones.  She walked slowly between crosses and headstones, her hair blowing gently in the breeze.  Jamie watched on, wanting to scoop her up and carry her to a secret hideaway far from the war.  He suddenly pulled her towards him and plucked up the courage to say what had been on his mind for several days: “Claire, will ye come to Gretna Green wi’ me and we can be married?”  He bit his lower lip as he saw her look of astonishment.

“Jamie, that’s a bit of a surprise.  I’m not sure what to say”, she said as a million possible responses sped through her head.

“Just say yes … please”, he said with feeling.  “With me being in the RAF and ye returning to France, I need to know that something binds us together.  I want to be able to look forward to something, to know that ye’ll return to me if we both survive.”  He paused to kiss her: “And I want to sleep with my wife and show her how much I love her in case one or both of us doesna make it.”

Claire reflected on what a friend in France had told her.  She had married quickly when her boyfriend went into the Army.  Hasty marriages had, in peace time, largely been due to pregnancies but in war torn France the sharp rise in hastily arranged weddings had also been due to not knowing if and when they would see one another again.  Jamie was waiting for her to say something, praying it would be the answer he sought.  When she did finally speak, she told him: “A woman in the French resistance told me that marrying her boyfriend before he left for the front somehow acted like an anaesthetic against the terrible news that assaulted us every day.  Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved I suppose.  In ordinary times, I’d say you were crazy to even consider it, but these aren’t ordinary times, are they?”

Jamie saw a flicker of hope and held her face in his hands: “So ye will?  Ye will marry me?”

Surprising even herself, Claire smiled: “Yes Jamie, I will marry you.  You will be the home I’ll return you _when we both survive._   And then we can renew our vows and have a massive booze up when the Nazis are consigned to history – bastards that they are.”

Jamie lifted her from the ground and spun her round: “Ye’ve made me a very happy man, Sassenach.  By this time next week ye will be Mrs Fraser.”  He kissed her with gusto.  She felt like the most loved woman in the world, and in that moment maybe she was.  Who knew what the future held?  They were going to live for the moment, because that moment was all they were guaranteed.

They walked back to the motorbike hand in hand, Jamie grinning like a Cheshire cat and Claire laughing at his excitement.

“I’ve no idea what I can wear for a wedding”, Claire laughed.  “You can wear your uniform and look ridiculously handsome, but I’ve nothing even remotely dressy.”

“Leave it to me.  I’ve a few ideas about that and some other things”, Jamie reassured her.

Claire stopped walking and looked at him in surprise: “You had this planned?” she asked.

“Well, I’ve been hopeful since that first tandem jump.  The idea of marrying ye has been on my mind ever since.  But truly Claire, ye could turn up in a potato sack and still look beautiful”, he joked.

“Lovely photos to show the grandchildren you buffoon!” Claire said taking a swipe at his arm.

Jamie pressed her against a wall and ran his hand from her shoulder down to her hip: “Claire, I wanted ye the moment I saw ye but I fell in love with ye when ye threw yer arms around me and thanked me for offering to help ye overcome yer fear of parachuting.  My heart left my body that day and it still does every time I’m near ye.”

“Shit, just my luck to marry an incurable romantic.  You are such a darling Jamie Fraser, I couldn’t let you escape could I?”  She threw her arms around his neck and they kissed until they needed to come up for air.

They donned their jackets and helmets and returned to the airfield via a different route.  Claire wondered if she was in a dream and would wake with a start.  Jamie was riding on a high.

That evening, when he’d dropped Claire at her quarters, Jamie sought out Rupert and told him what he planned.  Rupert wasn’t altogether shocked that Jamie was head over heels for Claire.  He’d watched Jamie falling for Claire for weeks, but he was shocked at the decision to marry so soon.  Jamie told him what he and Claire had talked of – the need to live in the moment, their uncertain futures, the inability to plan in times of war – and Rupert shook his head: “Aye, I understand all that.  Ye’re not alone in deciding to take the plunge in uncertain times.  I truly hope it works out for ye Jamie.”

“Good, because I need a best man”, Jamie told him with a (wonky) wink.

Jamie knew that he and Claire would need the permission of Jamie’s commanding officer to leave the base and travel to Gretna Green to be wed.  His CO, Mac, sat and listened carefully to what Jamie had to say by way of explanation and then said quietly: ”These are strange times.  None of us know what could happen in the next minute, hour, day or week.  While that is true of our lives in peace, it is even truer during times of war.  I can only advise you to follow the words of King George in his Christmas speech in 1939: _‘Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the hand of God. That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way.’_ But you don’t need to go to Gretna Green.  Our military chaplain is able to perform wedding services.  I’ll speak to him on your behalf if you wish.”

Jamie was delighted: “Thank ye sir.  I appreciate that – very much.”

“I’ll tell my wife to seek out Claire tomorrow to help with a wedding outfit.  And I’ll speak to cook about how we might use the base rations to provide for a modest reception.  Everyone here could do with something to celebrate.  Lifts the spirits”, the officer added.

Jamie was stunned: “I dinna know how to thank ye sir.”

“You’ve flown some risky missions with us.  Claire and her friends in the French resistance have also been responsible for getting some of our chaps out of France alive after they were shot down.  There are a number of men here who owe their lives to the bravery of the resistance.  This is a small way of saying ‘thank you’.”  He paused, then added: “But Jamie, you and Claire need to be honest with one another.  It’s possible one or both of you won’t make it through this war.  Enjoy the short time you have.”

Both men stood and saluted, then shook hands.

Jamie walked into the evening air and saw some parachutists in training.  That would be Claire’s next mission – parachuting alone.  By that time, she would be Mrs Claire Fraser. The thought of her parachuting alone both excited and scared him.  The thought of her returning to France scared the bejesus out of him. 


	5. In sickness and in health

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wedding provides welcome but temporary relief from the realities of war.

 

                               

 

There was a flurry of activity in the next week.  Jamie and Claire met with the military chaplain, Mac’s wife and some other RAF wives helped to find and adjust a dress for Claire, a pilot offered his late mother’s wedding ring and the cook came up with clever ways to incorporate rations into a wedding reception ‘feast’.  Claire had approached Mac to ask that he give her away.  Both she and Jamie had been touched by his support.

When the morning of the wedding came, Claire had several volunteers to help with her hair and who volunteered hard-to-find make-up.  The one thing Claire _always_ had was her Chanel lipstick.  She maintained that a woman was never nude provided she was wearing her Chanel lippy.

Jamie waited nervously standing between the chaplain and Rupert, clad in his brushed uniform and wringing his hands.  When Claire appeared at the door of the Officer’s Mess, he gaped and then smiled.  He knew she was beautiful, but she simply took his breath away.  Her long hair, often unruly, had been smoothed down more than usual.  Her long-sleeved dress had a V neck that revealed a little more of her breasts than was usually on show and she radiated a confident, sexy glow that made him want to get this wedding over and take her to the nearest bed.

She glided to the front of the room on Mac’s arm and then reached out to take Jamie’s hand.  He wasn’t sure he was breathing at that point, until she squeezed his hand and smiled at him.  When they had exchanged vows and Claire was wearing the ring, the chaplain told them they could kiss.  Jamie held Claire’s face in his hands and kissed her firmly but gently, then pulled away a little and said quietly: “I’ve wanted ye to be mine since I first set eyes on ye, Claire _Fraser._ ”

Claire smiled back: “You are a beautiful man, Jamie Fraser.  _My_ beautiful man.”

The reception was a rare opportunity for a celebration at the base, and the gathered servicemen and women and their partners enjoyed the modest but scrumptious spread.  Rupert, as best man, gave a brief speech.  Mac brought Jamie and Claire together after the speech and offered them a small box: “I know you’ll be off to France before _too_ long Claire, but for the brief time you and Jamie are living here together, I want you to have married quarters.  Here is the key.  It’s the best I can do to give you a honeymoon.”  Jamie looked at the number on the key.  The quarters were only a few hundred yards away from the mess.

Claire giggled as Jamie’s arm reached around her back and drew her close: “How quickly can we get away Sassenach?” he asked with a lascivious grin. 

“Not as quickly as I can get that uniform off you, _lusty husband_ ”, Claire replied.

Once the food had disappeared and the guests wished them well and drifted off, they walked to their new quarters with their arms linked.  Jamie turned the key in the door, and they found themselves in a basic one-bedroom portable hut.  The bedroom was at the rear of their quarters.  There was a double bed already made up.  Claire sat on the mattress and bounced up and down: “Plenty of spring in this mattress.  I hope it doesn’t squeak” she said mischievously.

“If it doesn’t, you might”, Jamie laughed.  He removed his jacket and held his arms out to her.  She walked into his embrace: “Jamie, can I undress you?” she asked looking up to his smiling face.

“Only if I can undress ye”, he replied, kissing her forehead.

She removed his tie and began to unbutton his shirt.  He was looking a bit nervous, so she kissed him on his chest and arms as she went.  When she undid his belt and unbuttoned his trousers, she heard him inhale sharply: “Are you alright?” she whispered.

“Aye, I’ve just been wanting to do this since we met and now it’s really happening, I hope I willna disappoint ye”, he said nervously.

“No Jamie.  You are more than I could ever have hoped for.  I want you too, very much.”  She pulled his pants down and he stood before her, in his birthday suit.  “You are beautiful”, she told him.

Claire’s dress was easy to remove.  Jamie undid the cuffs on her sleeves and bodice and slipped it off her shoulders and over her hips.  He stood back and looked at her, standing there in her bra and pants: “Christ Claire, ye’re the most beautiful woman.”  He slipped off her pants and she kicked them across the room, then he unclipped her bra and it fell to the floor.  His hands ran over her bare breasts and down to her hips.

“Do you want me now?” Claire asked.

“More than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life”, Jamie replied as he lifted her and gently placed her on the bed.  He laid next to her and kissed her with passion.  She ran her hands down his body and he shivered from the sensation.

“Jamie, do you want me to put a condom on you?” she asked quietly.

“Aye, I do” he replied.  “There’s some in my jacket pocket” he smiled.  Claire climbed off the bed and found the condoms.  Jamie watched her naked body from the bed and craved her touch.  She returned with the unwrapped condom and, to his surprise, gently pushed him on his back and began licking his penis.  He’d never felt anything so erotic in his life.  Then her fingers ran over his penis and she slipped the condom on: “Come here” she said beckoning him across to her.  She placed his fingers between her legs: “Feel me Jamie.  I’m almost ready for you.”

Jamie ran two fingers over her vulva and felt her body quiver.  She was sighing and sounding so sexy, he continued until he felt the area moisten.  By now, Claire was kissing him and nibbling his shoulders.  She was enjoying it and he was loving her reaction. 

Claire’s hand reached over to his buttock and pulled him closer: “Can you feel I’m ready for you?  I want you inside me Jamie.”  She parted her legs and kissed him, guiding him towards her.  He rolled over her and she guided him into her.  At first, he was tentative, but as he saw and heard her reaction he penetrated more and more with each thrust.  Soon, he could hear Claire begging for more – which was just what he wanted.  He felt her body tense and the sounds she was making deepened as she groaned, and then he felt his own orgasm fill the condom.  It was like nothing he had experienced before.  A euphoria beyond his imagination, made all the better by seeing Claire beneath him looking like she was in heaven.

He reluctantly withdrew, rolled on to his side and reached down to pull the bedspread over them.  Claire rolled into him: “Jamie, that was wonderful.”

“Did ye really like it?  Ye’re not just saying that?” he whispered.

Claire looked at him with dreamy eyes and smiled: “Jamie, I loved it.  I actually had an orgasm.”

“I didna know women could do that”, he said in surprise.

“Only when the man is a very good lover”, she said as she kissed him.  “And you’re a natural.”

“If I’m a natural, it’s only because I have ye to make love to Sassenach.  Seeing yer reaction to me making love to ye was incredible.  I didna think it was possible for me to love ye even more”, he told her as he held her closer.

They drifted off to sleep in one another’s arms.  Jamie woke in the early hours of the morning.  A siren.  A call to arms.


	6. Aspects of war

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The loss of a fellow pilot highlights the fragility of life.

 

 

 

 

Jamie was dressed and out of the door in what felt like a flash.  Claire knew better than to speak to him, as seconds counted in an emergency.  She simply sat up in bed and called to him: “Remember I love you Jamie”.

She heard the Spitfire engines, climbed out of bed and looked out of the window to see the planes approaching the tarmac.  They took off in quick succession and headed south in formation.  She put on what clothes she had and headed back to her old quarters for some warmer gear.  Wondering if there was anything she could do, she approached the radio room.  There was a flurry of activity and she thought better than to interrupt their work.  One of the operators turned to tell her: “Reports of the Luftwaffe approaching Newcastle-upon-Tyne.  Pray for them” and returned to their work.

She was heading off when she heard Mac’s voice: “Claire, get over here!”  She hurried to him.  “Claire, we’ve got a radio operator here on a bad line.  Can you understand what she’s saying?”

Claire put on headphones and listened intently.  She began a hurried conversation in French, writing rapidly so he could see what was being conveyed: _Another wave of Luftwaffe bombers heading in direction of Newcastle.  First wave from southern Germany.  This wave from northern Germany.  Estimate second wave will arrive ten minutes after the first._

Mac gave new instructions to those conveying information to the pilots then turned to Claire: “We couldn’t understand what she was saying.”

“I believe she was in the north of Belgium.  Some of the words were Flemish.  I don’t speak much Flemish, but I’m familiar with _some_ words in the language”, Claire told him.

“Well, thank goodness because this second wave could have caused serious damage to our men by coming in from a different angle.  Now we can work out our strategy and convey it to the pilots.  Hang around Claire, just in case we need you again.”  Mac indicated a chair in the corner, and Claire sat and watched the work in the control room.  She was more familiar with receiving directions and working on the ground.

She looked at the list of pilot names on the blackboard and, as they drew close to Newcastle, saw the name of the pilot listed below Jamie marked with a question mark.  She heard the person with the chalk call out: “Douglas shot down.  No details as yet.”

Douglas had been at their wedding the day before with his wife, laughing and joking.  It was he who had provided the wedding ring, previously owned by his late mother.  Claire moved it around her finger nervously in a vain effort to bring him luck.  Now they would wait anxiously for news of him.  Claire looked at Mac, concern written over his face.  Delivering news of a lost pilot - husband, father, son, brother – was the experience no commanding officer looked forward to.

Time went by.  News was coming in of bombing in Newcastle, north Tyneside, Wearside and Teesside in north-east England.  They were important targets. These areas had important heavy industry, including shipbuilding and busy docks sending coal to London and the south.  There were also major railway connections carrying passengers and freight to and from Scotland.

Hours later, when the planes landed at the airfield and each pilot left the cockpit, Claire watched their tired faces approaching the officer’s mess.  Douglas had been the only reported loss, but one was one too many.  Jamie gave her a weak smile as he approached.  She knew he would have to attend a debriefing before she could speak to him, so she walked to their hut and waited.  She passed the time with small domestic tasks, although her mind really wasn’t on what she was doing.

When Jamie eventually came home, it was only a brief stay: “We’re going to the pub to have a drink to Douglas.  There’s been no sighting of him yet and it’s not looking hopeful”, he told her looking glum.  “Do ye want to come?”

“Is that customary – for the wives to come too?” Claire asked.

“Some do, some don’t.  We’ll have a whip-round for Douglas’ family too.  Not knowing is the worst”, he told her looking emotional.

Claire took him in her arms: “Yes, I’ll come with you.  Is it far?”

“Not very far.  The walk’ll be good after being confined to that wee space” he told her.

She donned her coat and they walked hand-in-hand to the pub.  The atmosphere there was glum.  She noticed a number of the pilots met girlfriends there.  One of them pointed at Claire and was obviously asking who she was.  When she was told that Claire was Jamie’s wife, she was visibly shocked.  It made Claire feel uncomfortable.

After a few drinks and a bite to eat, Jamie suggested they leave.  On their walk home, Claire asked why the girl might have been so shocked to find Jamie was married.  “Claire, there are some girls in these parts who are likely to be born and die here.  Some of them see a pilot as a chance to maybe leave and see a wee bit of the world.  I’ve had a few girls try to get my interest, but I see them for what most of them are – opportunists looking for a way out.  Ye, on the other hand, are a rarity in these parts.  Ye’ve got looks, class, experience of the world and a broader view of life than just getting married and having bairns.  The world is yer oyster and ye are the pearl.  Ye need not be concerned about them.  I know I’m a lucky man.”  He stopped and kissed her, his arms locked around her. “Now, I could do with some sustenance – and I’m no’ talking about food.”

When they arrived at their temporary home, Jamie cleaned up while Claire made them a hot drink.  She also stripped down, so that when he emerged from the bathroom wearing only his underpants, she was wearing one of his shirts and nothing else.  He smiled: “Now, that look is my favourite.  You can welcome me home like that _every_ day” he laughed.

They fell into bed and laid holding one another: “You look exhausted Jamie.  Would you like me to take charge of meeting your sexual needs this evening?” she asked cheekily as her hand disappeared into his underpants.

“Sassenach, I should’ve added the word ‘sexy’ to your list of attributes earlier.  I canna imagine ever having a better offer in my entire life.”

She removed the unwrapped condom she had placed under the pillow earlier in the day and began to stroke his penis.  “I was pretty sure the answer would be ‘yes’”, she told him as he lay on his back, sighing.  Jamie sat up a little and put two pillows behind his head.  From that position, he could feel and kiss her breasts.  As he became more erect, she slipped on the condom and they fondled one another.  When she was ready, Claire lowered herself slowly on to him and whispered in his ear: “Je vais te monter grand garçon.” Jamie groaned in her ear: “I dinna know what ye said but it sounded great.” Claire laughed as she bore down on him: “I said, _I’m going to ride you, big boy._ ” 

“I am yours to do with me as you wish” he told her as he kissed her breasts.


	7. We'll meet again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prime Minister Winston Churchill set up the Special Operations Executive with a charter that included sabotage, espionage, assistance to Resistance movements, and other clandestine activities. SOE was not part of the regular Secret Intelligence Service. It was a separate agency with its own minister. Its exploits are legendary today, but it was a tightly held secret during World War II. Its existence was not revealed to the public until the war was over. About 50 of the SOE agents in France were women. Nancy Wake was one of them. Wake, always stylish, travelled nowhere without her Chanel lipstick and said she had not parachuted into France "to fry eggs and bacon for the men."
> 
> The 1939 song 'We'll Meet Again' was recorded by Vera Lynn and associated with World War II. (Lyrics at the end of the chapter.) Vera, who was born in the next suburb to mine, is now 101 years of age.

 

 

 

 

Over the next few weeks, it became clear that the Germans were concentrating on doing as much damage as possible to the east coast of England.  The damage in the Tyneside air raid had been considerable and there had been significant loss of life, both military and civilian.  Douglas’ death had been confirmed when his body was washed up on the shore just north of Newcastle.  The news shed a pall over the squadron.

Jamie’s squadron were called out too late to have much impact on the next raid – this time of York.  The German aircrew dive-bombed ordinary streets, strafing them with machine gun fire.  The assault had greater aims than to terrorise the civilian population and lower morale, however.  The Luftwaffe bombarded strategic targets, as they had further north – the railway line, the station, the Carriage Works, the airfield. All designed to reduce the effectiveness of the Allied forces.

More than 70 German planes were involved in the raid: Junkels, Heinkels and Dorniers. The raid began at 2.30am and finishing 90 minutes later when Allied planes shot down four enemy aircraft.  Knowing they would soon be outnumbered, the German aircraft returned over the English Channel.

Other attacks on cities such as Norwich were handled by RAF bases in the south of the country.  London was bombed regularly, and many families had already been evacuated.  Children, in particular, had been removed from the large cities closest to the action and billeted out to families in rural areas.

Claire’s training continued.  She had now made a number of individual parachute jumps during the day and at night.  She had thought it would be the most difficult aspect of her training, but it wasn’t.  That was the silent killing, because of the very nature of the directness of the contact with the person to be killed. It was different to distance killing. It wasn’t like a bombing firestorm that killed hundreds or thousands in a night. It was about disintegrating someone in front of you.  It might be with a knife or with a handgun.  Whichever it was, it involved being in close proximity.  It may even involve killing someone who was looking you in the eye.  They were trained to say to themselves “it’s me or them”, “it’s them or my pal” and so on.  It was brutal.  Despite the fact that the person was considered ‘the enemy’, they were human beings whose life was about to be extinguished.

She and Jamie had grown used to spending their nights together, eating dinner, talking about their day and making love. After just over a month, they had been lulled into a false sense of permanent togetherness that they both enjoyed immensely.  It wasn’t to last.

Jamie was out on reconnaissance when a Lysander flew into the base.  This was unusual.  These aircraft were rarely seen this far north, and its arrival attracted interest amongst those on the base.

The single passenger who emerged from the plane was in plain clothes but imbued with a sense of importance and rank that was obvious to all those looking in his direction.  He was directed to Mac’s office, where he and Mac had a brief discussion.

Mac called Claire and another female trainee, Yvonne, to his office and left them alone with the man: “I am now your commanding officer in Special Operations.  I’m taking you down to the south coast of England, where you will undergo final preparations for your drop in Europe.  You need only bring the basic essentials with you.  We will dress you in clothes that will make you look like the characters you are to assume.  You need to pack and return here in 30 minutes.”

“When are we actually leaving?” Claire asked anxiously.

“We’re leaving in 30 minutes”, he told them both as he left, and Mac returned.

Yvonne left immediately to pack.  Claire was still standing in the same spot when Mac approached her.  Her shoulders were drooped. She looked at him, fighting back tears: “Mac, I have to leave in 30 minutes.  Jamie won’t be back by then.  I don’t get to say goodbye to him.”

Mac placed a hand on her shoulder: “Claire, there’s no good time or place to say goodbye.  I’ll tell Jamie you had no choice.  Orders are orders.  You’d best prepare yourself.”

Claire left the room slowly, struggling to put one foot in front of the other.  Her vision was clouded by the flood of tears ready to flow at any moment.  Had she turned back to face Mac, she would have seen a single tear falling down each of his cheeks.  He was very fond of Claire and had seen how happy she had made Jamie.  This was not going to be easy for anyone.

Claire almost fell as she walked back into their shared hut.  There were signs of Jamie everywhere: his dirty washing, his toothbrush, the mug he’d had his coffee from this morning – even the used condom in the bin.  The tears now flowed.  She struggled to find some paper and a pen and sat down to write him a note.  It was difficult to see.

 

 

 

 

> _My darling Jamie, It’s so difficult to write this through the flood of tears.  I have just been told I have to leave for special duties in less than 30 minutes.  I am shattered.  I never expected, when I came to Scotland, to fall head over heels in love with the most beautiful man.  I thought I’d never love again.  Maybe I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t met you._
> 
> _I need you to know that you are my home now.  I will be like one of those homing pigeons and find my way back to you no matter what.  I love you with all my heart.  Pray for me, as I will for you.  Pray also for an end to this bloody awful war.  Your wife, lover and best friend, Claire_

She placed the note on his pillow, weighted down with a half empty Chanel lipstick container – he knew how precious her Chanel was to her.  It was a token of how much he meant to her.  She felt sure he would understand.

She grabbed a small bag and put her bare essentials in it: toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, precious soap, a couple of sets of underwear, one change of clothes and an unused Chanel lipstick.  Then she grabbed her jacket and took one last look at the married quarters she and Jamie had shared.  She decided not to linger as the tears were welling up again.  She walked out and shut the door behind her, without looking back.

Mac was waiting near the Lysander.  He had already farewelled Yvonne and now it was time to say goodbye to Claire.  She did her best to smile and held him close: “Look after Jamie, Mac.  That’s all I ask.  Au revoir.”

Mac kissed her cheek: “I will Claire.  Until we meet again, take care.”  He said it somewhat tongue in cheek.  Mac knew all too well that Claire was going into an incredibly dangerous war zone and genuinely feared for her, just as he feared for the men in his squadron every time they took off.

He watched as the Lysander took off and climbed into the clouds.  He was not looking forward to telling Jamie.

The sun was dimming as Jamie and a few other pilots landed back at the base.  It had been a long day.  They had radioed back the coordinates of a few suspicious looking marine craft near Scotland’s shores so they could be checked out by the Navy.  Now they were all famished and looking forward to stretching their legs.  Jamie was imagining having his legs entangled in Claire’s as they made love.

The other pilots made straight for the officer’s mess.  Jamie was pacing towards the married quarters he had shared with Claire.  He was wearing a broad smile when Mac approached him.  The smile dissolved as he saw the look of sadness on Mac’s face.

“Jamie, a word.”  Mac put his hand on Jamie’s shoulder: “I need to tell you that Claire’s gone.  I can’t tell you where she’s gone.  She’s part of a top-secret operation.  That’s all I can say, indeed it’s all I know myself.  You won’t be able to contact her, nor will she be able to contact you.  She simply told me to take care of you until she returns.  She has a job to do, as do you.  The quicker this war is over, the sooner you’ll be back together.  God willing that is.”

Jamie felt like a knife had been thrust into his stomach.  Claire was gone.  No farewell, no kiss, no chance to make love to her one more time, no idea of where she was going and when she’d be back. 

“Come have a drink with me Jamie”, Mac asked as he saw the blood drain from Jamie’s face.  “In the mess.”

“I … I’ll be with ye soon.  I just … I need to do something”, Jamie replied.

He headed directly to the hut he’d shared with Claire.  He needed to see for himself that she wasn’t there, and this was really happening.  He glanced in the bathroom and saw her things had gone.  He ran to the bedroom and threw the cupboards open.  The only things left were her wedding dress, the shoes she had worn on that day and a small box with folded clothes in it.  His eyes shot around the room and he saw the note and the Chanel lipstick.  He muttered to himself: “She must be here.  She would never leave her Chanel behind.”

He picked up the note and read it – twice.  It was real.  She _was_ gone.  His wife, lover and best friend had left, and he felt a gaping hole in his heart and then he sat on the bed and let the tears flow. 

When he’d composed himself, he placed the Chanel lipstick in his top left pocket.  He would keep it with him always as a reminder of his wife and a good luck charm. She could use it when she came back to him.

 

_**Lyrics of 'We'll Meet Again':** _

We'll meet again  
Don't know where, don't know when  
But I know we'll meet again some sunny day  
Keep smiling through  
Just like you always do  
'Til the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away  
  
[Pre-Chorus]  
So will you please say "Hello" to the folks that I know  
Tell them I won't be long  
They'll be happy to know that as you saw me go  
I was singing this song  
  
[Chorus]  
We'll meet again  
Don't know where, don't know when  
But I know we'll meet again some sunny day  
  
[Verse]  
We'll meet again  
Don't know where, don't know when  
But I know we'll meet again some sunny day  
Keep smiling through  
Just like you always do  
'Til the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away

[Pre-Chorus]

So will you please say "Hello" to the folks that I know  
Tell them I won't be long  
They'll be happy to know that as you saw me go  
I was singin' this song  
  
[Chorus]  
We'll meet again  
Don't know where, don't know when  
But I know we'll meet again some sunny day


	8. Claire's mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire undergoes final preparations and is then transported to France.

 

 

 

 

 

Claire was halfway to their destination in the Lysander when she finally looked out.  She had kept her head down for the first half of the flight to avoid being seen in tears and wiping her runny nose.  She was sure her eyes and nose must have been red raw from the crying and wiping away of snot.  Thank goodness she’d thought to bring a hanky. Her breathing had been shallow as she struggled to control her crying, and she finally took a deep breath and told herself: “Get your shit together.  Keep Jamie for private moments.”  That was going to be difficult.  He was in her mind constantly.  She had to find a way to compose herself as she needed to be alert and vigilant at all times.

On arrival at RAF Tangmere, near Chichester in the south of England, Claire and Yvonne were taken to their small but adequate rooms.  Training would begin the following morning and would be intense, they were told.  They would need to be prepared in time for the next moonlit period.

As Claire lay in her bed that night, she wondered how Jamie had reacted to her note.  Laying on her back, a few tears followed a path from her eyes down to her ears.  She closed her eyes and imagined he was in the bed with her now, his hands caressing her and his lips pressed against hers.  She sniffed and chuckled to herself: “Looks like it’s good old masturbation until I’m with him again” she mumbled.

The following morning, they were told to wear loose clothing and carry a provided bag full of clothing and personal effects to a hangar.  They were to be prepared for their landing in France.  They needed to understand how the operation would be carried out and they were to practice exiting the aircraft as quickly as possible with their belongings.

Operations were normally carried out during moonlit periods. Pilots operating into France had to fly solo three or four hundred miles, in darkness, over enemy territory, navigating by dead reckoning.

In navigation, dead reckoning is the process of calculating one's current position by using a previously determined position, or fix, and advancing that position based upon known or estimated speeds over elapsed time and course. The pilots needed to be able to have a map in one hand whilst flying the aircraft with the other. The route was checked on the map during the flight with the aid of a small lamp, and the map was folded in such a way to enable the pilot to unfold it with one hand.

Having navigated thus all the way from Tangmere to the landing field, the pilot would look for an identification Morse code signal flashed by torch from the ground party. Following the exchange of successful signals, the ground party would mark the landing run by lights and, showing incredible faith, courage and skill, the RAF pilots would land the aircraft in the field.

Turnaround times on the ground were exceedingly short, often less than five minutes, and a ladder was permanently fixed to the side of the Lysander, to enable agents to board very quickly. Having secured the human cargo, the pilot would then take off again, and fly once more through darkness back to Tangmere.

The two women’s lives depended on the skill of the pilot and on remaining silent during the flight to allow the pilot to concentrate on their difficult task.  When they were told to exit, they needed to know exactly how to alight quickly and make for cover at the direction of the resistance operators in France.  They spent the morning learning the operation and practising how to board and alight the Lysander as quickly as possible.

The next few days were also spent learning and practising the Morse code signals.  Once they were SOE operatives in France, they would be responsible for directing the pilots and setting up the landing lights themselves.

The days of training were long and tiring.  The evenings were taken up with eating, reading and sleeping.  Claire did her best to keep her thoughts of Jamie to this quieter time of day, knowing that if she became emotional, she could pull her head beneath the bed covers and shed tears.  She felt some comfort in knowing that he was part of a squadron who supported one another.  Being amongst friends would make his time a little easier, she hoped.  She wouldn't have that good fortune.

Finally, she and Yvonne were taken to a centre devoted to preparing the operatives for their new look.  Claire’s hair was cut shorter and in a style which would suit the period in France.  All her clothing was French, including the labels.  There was to be no sign of English if she were to be searched.  She was also given a French passport and other papers.  Her maiden name of Beauchamp was to be used as it had a French connection – Beauchamp is a commune in the Val-d'Oise department in Île-de-France in northern France.

She learned that she was to be dropped in Marseilles.  Marseille was the setting for very early resistance activities, as early as the summer of 1940, before the word _résistance_ was even used.

The port of Marseilles was a gateway out of France, to Algiers, to London, to America, to freedom for some and more active fighting for others.  There was an active SOE cell charged with keeping escape lines open to smuggle out stranded British soldiers in liaison with MI6. They were also assigned the role of getting injured military personnel and spies fit for travel out of the war zone.  Claire had been chosen for this role as she had experience and training in nursing.

Yvonne was to be dropped in the far east of France, where her resistance cell was responsible for doing as much as possible to impede the progress of German troops into the region – blowing up bridges, railways and communications centres.  Yvonne was a wireless operator who could receive and transmit information.  She’d also trained in the use of explosives.

When their training was complete, and they were kitted out for their roles, Claire and Yvonne bade each other farewell.  They were to be dropped in separate Lysanders on the same moonlit night.

Claire’s flight path to Marseilles involved travelling down the coast of France and then east over the Mediterranean.  It was a longer flight than across land, but the risk of being shot down was greater if they travelled over France.  Using the Mediterranean Sea as a guide was also easier – the reflection of the moon on the water below was a good visual lead.   

Hours after take-off she felt the plane go into its descent and eventually saw landing lights.  The moment she was told to exit, she knew exactly what to do.  As she quickly alighted, two men were waiting to jump on to the ladder into the plane.  A third man, wearing a jacket with the collar up and a hat pulled down almost obscuring his face, indicated she should quickly follow him into the nearby woods.  A fourth man was quickly removing the landing lights as the plane turned and took off.

When the plane had successfully taken off the man in the jacket and hat revealed his face and smiled: “Welcome back to France, Claire.”

Claire couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing, but she was delighted: “Ian!  Jesus H Roosevelt Christ, what are you doing here?”

“I was about to ask ye the same thing.  I had to get out of Paris.  We can talk later, but right now we need to get away from here in case ye were seen”, Ian replied.

Claire and Ian ran behind the second man to a car hidden beneath several large branches and they were soon heading for a safe house.  Claire Beauchamp, SOE operator, was back in France.  She kissed her wedding ring and prayed for Jamie.  She wondered how Ian might react when she told him her news.


	9. Marseille

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire learns more about her mission in Marseille.
> 
> In the next chapter, we will see what has happened from Jamie's point of view.

 

 

 

 

 

The driver of the car dropped Ian and Claire at the rear of a grand estate.  Ian unlocked an old gate and they crept along a gravel path lined by a carefully trimmed hedge. Claire was surprised to find the safe house was a very comfortable cottage on an estate outside Marseille. Ian guided Claire into the cottage, where the coals in an open fire had kept the house warm.

“How do we manage such luxury during a war?” she asked Ian.

“Château Beaupin is the country estate of Louise de La Tour d'Auvergne and her husband, Jules de Rohan, Prince of Guéméné.  They have cultivated trust with the Nazis while working for and funding the resistance, as ye and Francois did.  Jules is in Paris distracting the Germans while Louise is active in Marseille.  To the Nazis, they are the perfect Aryan couple, part of the nobility. The French aristocracy have collaborated almost wholesale with the Nazis, so Louise and Jules have managed to operate under the radar, so to speak.  Jules sometimes brings the highest-ranking officers of the Reichsführer-SS here for weekend or even week-long parties.  We know exactly where they’ll be and when, which means while the cats are away the mice can play”, Ian smiled.

“Now, you can meet Louise tomorrow but, in the meantime, the story is you are here as her private nurse as she has psoriasis, a skin condition that needs daily attention, Claire Beauchamp.  And I am the gardener”, Ian told her.

Ian’s expression softened as he looked at Claire and asked: “But how are ye, Claire?  I last saw ye months ago just after Francois was killed in Paris.  Are ye alright?”

“Well, a lot has happened since I last saw you Ian.  I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.  Right now, I need to get some sleep and get up early in the morning so I can clean up before I meet Louise”, Claire replied.  “It’s a bit of a long story.”

“Aye, that’ll be interesting.  There’s a bedroom at the top of the stairs over there”, he told her pointing to the far corner of the living area.  “I’ll sleep on the couch and be on guard.  We shouldna have any problems. The Germans think of this as friendly territory.”

Claire took her jacket and bag up to the bedroom, sank into the bed and was asleep in moments. 

She woke to the sound of birds on the windowsill and the smell of coffee wafting up the stairs.  She found a wash basin and a pitcher of cold water in the room, freshened up, dressed, brushed her hair and descended down the stairs to find Ian talking quietly to a beautifully coiffed woman with an aristocratic air.

Louise looked her up and down and smiled: “Ah yes, I see they have chosen well.  I see already that you will fit the bill, ma chère Claire.  But you do not remember me, non?  I came to a party at your apartment in Paris some time ago with Jules, who did business with Francois.”  Her smile was replaced with a look of sympathy: “Please – my condolences.”

“My apologies Louise.  I don’t recall being introduced.  There were many parties and so many people to remember … as well as memorising what they had to say”, Claire said with a look she thought Louise would understand.

“Oui, so many important people with so much information to glean once they had been drinking for long enough”, Louise replied with a wink. “Please, come to the chateau.  Ian is going to do some work in the garden while we talk.  You will see him later.”

Louise gave Claire a tour of the gardens, pointing out all the gates around the property.  She also showed her the main entrance to the chateau, then led her to the tradesmen’s entrance and, just beyond, a small wooden door partially hidden by bushes: “You need to be aware of this entrance.  I will show you why”, Louise told her.

Louise opened the door and beckoned Claire inside.  The narrow corridor was dark.  Louise produced a torch from her pocket and led the way.  Claire estimated they walked 30 metres in before the corridor opened into a wine cellar, lined with hundreds of dusty bottles.  Louise squeezed behind one of the racks of bottles: “Follow me”, she told Claire.  Another door, small and painted in the same colour as the surrounding bricks for camouflage, was opened and led into a second corridor.  Louise led her to a door, rays of light visible around the edges.  When she opened that door, they were in a rotunda.  Ian was there waiting for them.  Louise indicated to Ian: “You and Ian are two of the very few people who know of this escape route.  Keep it that way.  Now we will return to the main entrance and talk.”

Louise led Claire up to the highest point in the house facing north-west and handed her binoculars: “Can you see the island about 1.5 kilometres offshore in the bay?” she asked Claire.

“Yes, I can.  Does it have some significance?” Claire asked.

“On that island is Château d'If.  The Germans are using it as a prison.  It is where the Count of Monte Christo was held.  Its location in the Bay of Marseille is ideal for them, as once they get prisoners on there, they are almost impossible to get off.  It’s our job to stop them getting captured Allies on there.  We know they torture and murder many of them.  We have found dead bodies washed up along the coast.  We do our best to intercept them, get them well enough to travel and get them out of France by boat or plane.  Welcome to the Resistance Marseille, Claire.  Later, I will get Ian to take you into Marseille to meet a few people you will be working with.  Be sure to have your papers with you at all times.  If the Germans stop you, you are working for me and going to collect medical provisions.  I’ll give you a list on my letterhead.”

Louise neatly wrote a list of topical psoriasis treatments on a letterhead, complete with the family crest, and handed it to Claire: “I will see you this evening.  I will take a bath and then you can treat my skin” Louise smiled. 

Claire and Ian took their leave and returned to the cottage.  As they walked, Ian pointed to her hand: “I see ye’re still wearing a wedding band, Claire.”

Claire said, a little hesitantly: “That’s because I’m married Ian.”

Ian stopped walking and looked at her, a little puzzled: “To Francois?”

“Well, actually no.  I married someone in Scotland.  Someone I believe is known to you”, Claire said as she looked into Ian’s confused face.

They arrived at the cottage and entered.  Ian closed the door behind them: “Claire, how on earth could it be someone I know?  Ye’ll have to tell me a wee bit more.”

Claire took a long breath: “My married name is Claire Fraser, and my husband’s name is Jamie.”

Ian practically fell into the armchair behind him: “Jamie?  But Jamie … How did Jenny take that?”

“Well, I didn’t actually meet Jenny.  It was all very quick.  Jamie was on missions and I was in training.  As far as I’m aware, Jenny doesn’t know yet”, Claire told him.

“Aye, well Jenny’ll no’ believe it.  She’s always thought she and I would be married before Jamie’d find someone.  She still thinks of him as her wee brother.  And half the lasses in Broch Mordha’ll be ready to scratch yer eyes out, Claire.  Not that he was ever interested in them, but they were eyeing him off.”  Ian paused to shake his head: “Christ, Jamie and Claire Fraser.  That’s gonna take some getting used to.”

Claire watched as she saw her news sinking in: “I really do love him, Ian.  I know it was all very sudden.  I didn’t think I’d love anyone after Francois, but Jamie just swept me off my feet.  He wanted us to make a commitment to one another before I left Scotland, so we could look forward to a life together after this awful war.  Leaving was heartbreaking.”

She told Ian about her rushed departure and how devastated she had been.  He gave her a gentle smile: “I’ve known Jamie most of my life.  He’s a good man.  I can tell yer feelings for him are genuine and strong.  I hope it works out for ye both.  I really do.  I’m glad you found one another.  Christ, I ken before Jenny – don’t tell her that!”


	10. Jamie's war

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in Scotland, Jamie is trying to come to terms with the loss of Claire and his role in the war.
> 
> Thanks to all of you who sent your best wishes. Also to the readers who've been in touch with details of Marseille, suggestions for a series to watch regarding WW2 and the Resistance (it's called 'Das Boot' and can be pretty confronting - thanks @scubalass), and bits of history from family members involved in WW2. So much interesting stuff to know!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There was a light knock on the door of the hut Jamie had shared with Claire.  Jamie took a deep breath and opened the door.  It was Rupert: “Come and join us in the mess, Jamie.  Most of the lads are there waiting for ye.  Oh, and they know about Claire – Mac told us.  No-one will expect ye to speak of it unless you choose to.”

“Aye, I canna sit here forever.  Thanks Rupert”, Jamie said closing the door behind him and strolling over to the mess with his friend.

When he arrived in the mess, he felt sympathetic eyes look over in his direction.  Mac had a drink ready at the bar.  He knew the favourite drink of all those under his command – and he knew when they most needed that drink.  Jamie sat in the corner of the mess trying to act as naturally as possible.  It wasn’t going to be easy, but he was surrounded by people who feared for their family and friends every day.  He knew he wasn’t alone in that.  The difference was that most of them at least knew where their nearest and dearest were, or were supposed to be.  He could only assume Claire was somewhere in France or on the way there.  He couldn’t contact her, and he had no idea when he might hear from her again.  It was nagging at him already, and she’d only left that day.

Over the next few weeks, Mac kept a close eye on Jamie.  He and Rupert would compare their thoughts and observations on how he was going.  Mac had suggested he move back into the single men’s quarters, so he had friends and colleagues close by.  Jamie assumed automaton mode, performing his daily duties according to a predetermined set of instructions.  He was efficient, helpful, polite – and miserable.

Mac was concerned that he needed to give Jamie something to help him cope with the great unknown.  After speaking to Claire’s commanding officer, he took Jamie aside: “Jamie, I know you’re worried about Claire.  I’ve spoken to her CO and he assures me that if he had any great concern about Claire, he’d let you know via me.  Jamie, no news is good news in this case.”

Jamie gave Mac a slight smile: “I appreciate that Mac.  Really, I do” and walked away.  He didn’t want Mac to see him lose it and he thought that was a real possibility.

It wasn’t just Claire that he was concerned about.  The initial bombing of Germany had been strategic bombing – railways, harbours, industrial districts and military posts.  Now they were getting feedback that their targets were increasingly workers’ housing and that didn’t sit comfortably with him.  He felt that made them little better than the enemy.  He understood the rationale behind it.  The bombing campaign did force Germany to devote huge resources to the defence of the homeland, and the German air force suffered significant losses at the hands of Allied fighter escorts. But he also worried that the Germans might feel it gave them carte blanche to do the same in France – and Claire was there as far as he knew.  He was at the bottom of a chain of command that gave them targets and expected them to drop their bombs without question.  It played on his mind.

It had begun with the Cologne raid: in one night, 1,046 RAF bomber aircraft rained more than 2,000 tons of bombs on the city, reducing 13,000 houses to rubble. 

The RAF bombed by night, the USAAF (working from airfields in Britain) bombed by day.  In Operation Gomorrah, British and American bombers attacked Hamburg day and night for an entire week; half the city was levelled, and 40,000 were killed.  And the casualty rate in the RAF had increased – Jamie had lost two more good friends.  Another had bailed out of his aircraft when it was hit and parachuted down – they had heard nothing about his whereabouts or if he was alive. He’d also observed and felt the ripple effect of those deaths and reports of missing in action – family, friends, colleagues, neighbours were all affected by their loss and fear.

There were also moments of brilliance that lifted everyone’s spirits.  RAF Bomber Command was able to pull off one stunning piece of precision bombing against dams in the Ruhr Valley, the German industrial heartland.  A special ‘bouncing bomb’ had been designed to explode the walls of three hydroelectric dams which provided power to German industry.  Sadly, 8 aircraft  and over 50 crew lost in what became known as the Dambusters.

Seemingly endless night missions had left all the crew tired.  Sleep could be hard to come by during the day and was often interrupted.  It didn’t help anyone’s temperament.  When they did have a night off, Rupert encouraged Jamie to join some of the others for a night at the pub.  Jamie hoped alcohol might be a cure for at least some of his ills. 

As the night got louder and plenty of alcohol had been consumed, one of the local lasses started making moves on Jamie.  He was polite but wasn’t receptive, but she was insistent.  A few of the young pilots, having only recently joined the squadron, were egging Jamie along.  Rupert could see Jamie was becoming flustered and suggested they leave but Jamie’s way was blocked by the girl, who by now was sitting on his lap and trying to kiss him.  She reached into his top pocket, found Claire’s Chanel lipstick there and moved to spread it on her lips. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

There was a sudden, explosive shout from Jamie that shook the pub: “Get off me ye wee bitch!  My wife is worth ten of ye.”  He stood and the girl fell to the floor, looking shocked.  “I dinna want ye anywhere near me.  Give me back my wife’s lipstick or I’ll kill ye.”  The girl looked up in shock but didn’t offer the lipstick back.  It was Rupert who stepped forward and told her quietly: “Ye’ll give me that lipstick or I’ll let him kill ye.”  She handed it back angrily.  A few locals were moving to defend the girl.  It was Mac who stepped in and called out: “Just a misunderstanding.  Free beers on me!”

Mac looked at Rupert, who immediately knew what needed to be done.  As the barman distracted the locals with free beer, Rupert took Jamie’s arm and escorted him out of the pub.  Few words were exchanged between the two friends.  The brisk walk back to base helped to cool Jamie’s temper.  By the time they got back to their quarters, Jamie had returned the precious Chanel lipstick to his top pocket and thanked Rupert for stepping in.

Jamie lay on his bed unable to sleep for most of the night.  His mind was racing, and he wasn’t able to stop it.  His head was full of all the things that could go wrong.  Although most or all of them wouldn’t happen, they all seemed real possibilities to him. 

He realised he must have dropped into a shallow slumber in the wee hours when he woke with a dry throat, a bad headache and sore eyes.  He freshened up and was walking towards the mess for breakfast when he heard Mac’s voice: “Come join me in my office Jamie.  You can have breakfast with me.  I think it’s time we had a bit of a chat.”

Mac asked cook to send in two bowls of porridge and some toast with coffee.  When it arrived, he and Jamie ate slowly while Mac spoke between mouthfuls: “Jamie, I’ve been looking at your mission statistics.  Of all the pilots here, you and Rupert have been on more missions that anyone else.  It’s time for a rest, Jamie.  Time to go home for a week or two and recharge your batteries.  You’ll return sharper and not looking like you’re constantly exhausted.”

Jamie insisted it wasn’t necessary.  “Going home is a wee bit difficult Mac.  My Ma died some time ago, my Da didna want me to join the RAF in the first place and my sister will want me to do 101 jobs within minutes of my arrival.  It’s no’ the happy place it was when Ma was alive.”

Mac sat back in his chair, sipping his coffee and thinking about how he might encourage Jamie to take a break.  “Is there anyone else you’d like to spend time with Jamie?”

“Only Claire”, Jamie replied.

“Can I suggest you go home, give it a try and return early if it doesn’t work out?  Jamie, you’re exhausted and that’s a recipe for disaster for a pilot.  I don’t want to lose you as part of my squadron, but I don’t want to see you kill yourself either.”

Jamie looked at him in surprise: “Do I look that bad?”

“Yes, you do.  And what happened last night showed you’re close to the edge.  You need a break, Jamie.”


	11. The prodigal son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie returns home to 'Lallybroch' after leaving years before to join the RAF.
> 
> An early update because sometimes the words just flow on to the keyboard.
> 
> In the next chapter, we'll return to Claire and Ian's mission in France.

 

 

 

 

 

Jamie had taken a bus which passed through Broch Mordha and the driver dropped him a little closer to his home, _Lallybroch._   He was carrying a small pack with essentials – his civvies were at home in his room.  Some time out of uniform would be welcome.  Eventually he was standing atop a hill looking down at his home and wondering what reception he might get, and what it would be like to be there again.

The horses, out in the paddock near the house, began neighing and running around the perimeter of the paddock.  Their equine senses had detected Jamie by his familiar smell before they could even see him.  Now he was within their view, they were excited.

Brian Fraser heard the horses and knew that someone or something must be approaching the house.  He peered out of the kitchen window and saw Jamie approaching.  A range of emotions flowed through him at the sight of his youngest child.

Brian and Ellen Fraser had lost their older son, Willie, to smallpox at the age of eleven.  The impact on the family had been profound.  Jamie had always felt somehow responsible, although no-one understood why.  Brian knew that the small cherrywood snake that Willie had carved for Jamie’s fifth birthday was still stored carefully in Jamie’s room.  Woe betide anyone who touched it without Jamie’s say-so.  Brian smiled when he thought of the time Jenny threatened to move it – she never did it again!

Losing his mother in his teens had been a blow to Jamie too.  They had always been close.  Ellen was artistic and Jamie had loved to spend time with her drawing and talking.  Her death had cast a pall over the family again.  Jamie had sat by her grave in the grounds, drawing and talking to her, every day for months after her death.

The last time Brian had seen Jamie they had argued.  Brian wanted Jamie to stay at home and help feed the family and those living on the estate and beyond.  Jamie was determined that he was going to join the RAF.  None of them had realised this war was to go on for so long, just as they’d underestimated the length of the First World War.  Brian desperately wanted to protect his only remaining son from the horrors of war, but Jamie was determined to do his bit for the war effort.

As Jamie came closer, Brian opened the door to the house: “Welcome home son.  It’s good to see ye.  Come on in.”

Jamie just about fell into a chair in the kitchen.  Brian offered him a small whisky: “I’ve been saving this for the prodigal” he grinned.

“Aye, well I doubt ye’ve a fatted calf at the ready, but a biscuit or piece of cake would be welcome.  I can assure ye I havena wasted my substance with riotous living”, Jamie said.

A voice behind him chimed in: “Well, ye havena forgotten yer bible readings then Jamie” Jenny said.

“Luke 15, verse 13 I believe” Jamie replied as he turned to see his sister with her hands on her hips.  “How are ye Jenny?”

“Holding the fort.  What brings ye home Jamie?”  Her tone was caustic.  Jamie had been expecting it, although he had hoped she might at least welcome him with a bit of a smile.

“Well, I’ve been a one man fighting machine Jenny but even I got too tired to fly over Germany _every_ night fighting for King and country, so my commanding officer told me to take a bit of time off and return when I’d rested”, he told her.

“Rested?  Ye came home for a rest?  What about the rest of us?” Jenny replied, hands still on hips.

“Janet, stop it” Brian told her.  “Yer brother is home for a short time before he has to return to the RAF.  Leave it be”, Brian scolded her.

Jenny reluctantly took a seat on the other side of the table from Jamie: “I don’t suppose ye’ve heard anything of Ian Murray”, she asked in a questioning tone.

“As a matter of fact, I have”, Jamie replied.

Jenny’s facial expression went from annoyed to anxious: “Truly?  Well, tell me then Jamie.  I’ve heard nothing for so long I canna recall.”

Jamie swigged back his whisky and leaned forward: “As another matter of fact, he’s a friend of my wife’s.”

“Yer what?” Brian and Jenny said in unison.

“My wife.  She’s in the French resistance and she knows Ian.  She last saw him some months back and he was fine at that time.  He helped her get out of France when a … (he paused and considered what he would say) close friend of hers was killed by the Nazis.  She knew who was behind it.”

Jenny’s head was now full of questions: “But how did ye meet her then?”

“I helped in her training so she could go back to France and help the resistance again.  And I’m worried sick about her, as ye are about Ian.  It’s one reason my CO said I needed to come home.  I got snappy and anxious and he was worried I’d make a mistake on a mission.  I’m just like ye Jenny, I dinna know where Claire is – even if she’s alive.  So ye and I have that in common.”

Brian could see that Jamie was ready to explode.  He sat next to Jamie and spoke to him in a gentle tone: “Tell us about Claire, Jamie.  I’d like to know more about her.”

Jamie’s expression softened: “Da, she’s beautiful.  I dinna mean just to look at, she has such a strong spirit and she said she couldna just stay here because she’d seen what the Nazis are doing.  She talked of people being whipped and tortured just because they’re Jewish and of trains full of people who are taken away and never seen again. And it's not just the Jews.  The Nazis hate anyone who doesna fit into their idea of what's right - gypsies, black people, communists, the disabled and more. She speaks perfect French so she can help with the Allies who the resistance are trying to get out of France or wherever she is.”

Jenny could now relate to all Jamie was saying: “She sounds like Ian.  A good heart.”

“Aye, she is special.  I knew it the day I met her.  I dinna expect everyone to understand that, but I did”, Jamie said with emotion.

“I understand perfectly, son.  I felt the same way with yer mother.  I fell for her within minutes of meeting her and she is the only woman I’ll ever love, even though she’s with us no more.  I know full well it happens, because it happened to Ellen and I.”  For the first time in years, Jamie and his father hugged one another.

“Thanks Da.  Ye’re going to love her.  I know you will”, Jamie smiled.

“When did ye marry?” Jenny asked.

“It’d be over three months ago now.  It had to be quick.  Claire was in training and I was on missions.  In fact, I had to fly one mission on the night we married.  I lost a friend on that mission too.  He was shot down by the Luftwaffe”, Jamie told her.

“Christ, I canna wait for this war to be over”, Jenny said rising from her chair.  “In the meantime, dinner willna cook itself.  Ye can help with the tatties and neeps Jamie”, she said passing him a bowl of potatoes and turnips, and a knife to peel them.

“No rest for the wicked eh?” Jamie laughed.

“Nor for the gooduns”, Brian replied with his hand on his son’s shoulder.  “I canna tell ye how good it is to have ye here Jamie.  Yer Ma will want to hear about everything when ye’re ready.  She hasna gone anywhere.”


	12. The Apothecary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We return to France, where Claire is involved with the French Resistance working alongside Ian. A new (but familiar to us) character also comes into her life.

 

 

 

 

 

Claire had now been in Marseille for months.  She and Louise had become close friends and shared their thoughts each morning and evening, when Claire would apply topical treatments to Louise’s psoriasis.  It was, if the Germans asked, Claire’s raison d'être.  She would regularly travel into central Marseille on the pretence of collecting new bottles of the treatments used on Louise.  In reality, her visits were also to help with the work of the resistance.

Artists, intellectuals and stranded English and Allied soldiers were smuggled out via escape lines through Marseille.  It was a complex operation involving people from all walks of life. Several sympathetic consuls (Czech and Mexican notably) signed false papers as part of the kafkaesque assembling of transit papers necessary for a chance to flee.

Those who were injured and in need of treatment before they could travel were tended to, first by Dr George Rodocanachi and later by a Scottish Presbyterian, Reverend Donald Caskie.  Claire was finding Scots were having an increasing influence on her life. They were based at the Seamen’s Mission, the majority of their patients being seamen in need of medical help – but in the basement a small hospital for people being prepared for escape by the resistance. Claire helped Donald prepare those who were to be smuggled out, helping with translation from English to French and vice versa, treating wounds, cutting and dying hair, adjusting clothing and briefing them.  Donald would chuckle when the men would ask what she was preparing for their meals and she’d reply: “I didn’t train for months so I could come and cook your bloody eggs and bacon.  Get off your arse and help, it’s not a hotel.”  Rather than be offended, Donald saw many of the men fall for Claire, who was quite clear that her husband was the only man in her life.

After spending hours at the Seamen’s Mission helping Donald, she would climb on to her push bike, place a paper bag of psoriasis treatments in her saddle bag with her papers and cycle back to the cottage on Louise’s estate.  This had been her routine for months until one day when Donald’s supply of the psoriasis treatments had run out.

“You’ll have to go to the apothecary for the treatments today, Claire.  I’ll give you a list of other things I need”, Donald told her.

He sketched a rough map for her and she headed off on her bicycle.  She cycled through the back streets of Marseille until she found the apothecary. It was an ordinary, dull building on the exterior but on the inside Claire found her nirvana. 

The wooden panelling in the shop was complemented by beautifully carved shelving containing the widest range of salves, liquids, ground herbs and treatments she had seen.  Hanging from a ceiling rack were various plants drying off.  There were baskets of fresh herbs, mortars and pestles of varying sizes and ornate scales on and around the stunning workbench.  It was just as she had envisioned her perfect workplace.

She was still standing there entranced when a door squeaked open to her right.  She looked in the direction of the squeak and found her eyes dropping until she saw before her a small man who looked like he’d been spawned from the mating of a gnome and a frog.  She mentally scolded herself for thinking so cruelly of another human being and smiled, hoping she hadn’t looked too shocked at his appearance.

“Good morning, I have a list of requirements for the Seamen’s Mission and my own mistress, Mr …?” she looked inquiringly.

“Raymond.  And you are?” he asked.

“Claire.  Claire Beauchamp” she introduced herself.

Raymond took her hand and kissed the back of it: “Enchanté”.  He peered at the list in her other hand.  “I will need to prepare a few of these things for Donald.  Please, come into my other workspace.”

Claire followed him through the squeaky door to a second room, which wasn’t as decorative but was also a space she coveted.  Raymond watched her face: “I see you like my place of work Claire.  You too would like to be an alchemist?” he grinned.

“Oh yes, it’s definitely something I aspire to.  I have dabbled in the past but I’ve never stayed in one place long enough to establish myself”, Claire told him as she looked around like a child in a toy shop.

“You are welcome to visit me any time and I will share my knowledge with you.  You have the aura of an alchemist.  I believe it is your calling” he told her as he offered her a stool near his bench.  “Please, sit.”

As he prepared Donald’s order, they spoke of various herbs and salves, how they draw out evil humorisms, the wonders of beeswax and the use of essential oils.

Claire was always guarded about her past and what she was doing at the Seamen’s Mission, with good reason. It paid to assume everyone was a German spy. She trotted out her customary story of treating Louise’s psoriasis after some training as a nurse, but added that she helped Donald so that she could learn more and take up nursing professionally when the war was over.  Raymond listened as he worked.

“There are many who have benefitted from Donald’s expertise.  I am sure you will learn a great deal there.  If you have any problems, you can come to me for help Claire.”  His words were loaded.  Claire wondered if he was a member of another resistance cell.  She knew there were numerous cells around France but that the membership of each cell was only known to other members or to a handful of coordinators.  It was a good system in that anyone who was arrested only had knowledge of their cell and could not reveal the identity or whereabouts of other cells.

Her suspicions were reinforced when she was close to leaving with her small basket of goods.  Raymond looked out of the window next to the shop door and placed his hand on her arm, pulling her back gently.  “A moment, Claire.  The men outside trouble me.  They are not local, but they have been hanging around for some days.  Just wait until they have walked away.”  They stood and watched as the men exchanged papers and whispers then left.  Raymond opened the door for her: “I am sure we will meet again soon Claire.  Take care.”

Claire placed the goods in the basket on the front of her bicycle and pedalled down toward the Seamen’s Mission.  As she approached, she saw the same two men standing opposite the Mission, watching the main door.  Knowing that she could enter via a laneway at the rear, she pedalled around the block and hurried in: “Donald, we need to get the servicemen hidden away.  There are some suspicious characters at the front door.”  She and Donald hurried the two servicemen down the rear laneway and into a safe house.  Minutes later, a group of German soldiers knocked heavily on the front door and entered.  They checked the papers of the seamen being treated and searched a number of rooms without finding anyone or anything suspicious.  They questioned Donald and Claire, whose stories coincided, and left.  Soon after they left, Claire noticed the two men she had first seen outside Raymond’s apothecary had also gone.

Claire knew better than to ask Donald if Raymond was involved in the resistance, but she felt sure that he was at least a sympathiser to the cause.  She also knew they needed to get the two servicemen out soon as the Germans were clearly suspicious of the Seamen’s Mission.  The next full moon was only a few days away.  She reassured Donald that she would speak to Ian that evening and set up an escape time and place.  Ian was one of the radio operators in their cell and would need to make contact with a coordinator.  The two servicemen would be out of the Seaman's Mission within 24 hours, hopefully with no other surprise visits from the Germans.  Louise had told her that the previous Seamen's Mission was closed down by the police and Dr Rodocanachi arrested.  After saving hundreds of lives, he died in Buchenwald concentration camp in Weimar, Germany, one year later.  When she told Louise and Ian what had happened that afternoon, arrangements were made to move the two men immediately.  Louise feared Donald could have the same fate as his predecessor.  It proved to be an inspired move - the Germans returned to the Mission early the following morning, only an hour after the two servicemen had been whisked away by the resistance.


	13. Upping the ante

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Ian prepare for a potentially serious conflict. Claire also meets a young French boy, Claudel.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Donald couldn’t risk being involved with the two servicemen who’d been whisked away from the Seamen’s Mission.  It was clear that the Germans were watching him and the Mission.  There was going to have to be a rethink of the situation.

It was agreed that Claire would continue to visit the Mission, as questions may be asked about why she suddenly stopped helping Donald.  Meanwhile, Ian and Louise were looking into alternative routes for the escape line.

They were also under pressure to get the two servicemen out of Marseilles.  With the full moon so close, they planned an escape flight by  moonlight from a rural area outside Marseille.  Ian and Claire would collect the servicemen from a safe house and drive them out in a car with stolen number plates.  Ian would be in charge of the Morse code signals and Claire would take responsibility for the landing lights.

Claire was reminded of her own arrival in France when the RAF pilot landed in the lightly forested area and expertly turned the plane ready for takeoff.  The two men readied themselves to be flown out of France and back to RAF Tangmere. 

As the first man climbed into the plane, Claire handed the second an envelope: “Please, can you post this for me when you get back to Blighty?” she asked. 

The man tucked in the envelope inside his jacket: “Of course.  And thank you” he smiled.  As the plane took off, she collected the landing lights and she and Ian quickly left the area.  Ian drove back to the cottage by a different route, with Claire looking for any signs of them being followed.

Hurried investigations by Louise led to Albert-Marie Guérisse, a Belgian doctor, being taken on by SOE under the _nom de guerre_ Pat O'Leary and posing as a French Canadian.  Pat would work from a small house in the back streets of Marseilles which had several entrances and a wine cellar. 

The route using this house became known as the Pat Line.  The Pat Line worked in liaison with MI6, MI9 and SOE in London, who were smuggling out hundreds of escaping Allied servicemen and agents back to Britain.  The escaping Allies were referred to as “parcels” and mostly travelled via the _calanques_ of Cassis or the Pyrenees en route to Gibraltar.  They needed to be fit to tackle either of these routes.  Any wounds needed to have healed before their arduous journey.

Claire began sharing her time between the Mission and the Pat Line.  She still collected parcels from Raymond for Louise’s treatment, but also for the Mission and the Pat Line.  She was vigilant after the scare at the Mission, using different routes between the apothecary and her other workplaces.

On her second visit to the apothecary, Raymond was not alone.  The boy helping him was, she estimated, about ten years old.  His dark, curly hair occasionally fell into his bright eyes as he moved and stacked boxes in the workshop.

Raymond introduced Claire to the boy: “Claire, meet Claudel.  He is doing some jobs for me for a little money.”

Claire smiled at the boy. He was almost too pretty to be a boy, she thought.  Beautiful skin and hair.  “Good morning Claudel.  Are you working here all the time now?”

The boy was a little nervous: “No.  I go wherever I can get earn some francs Madam.”  He continued stacking the boxes, took a handful of coins from Raymond and left hurriedly without making eye contact.

When he had left, Raymond offered Claire a seat and an explanation. “Claudel is an orphan Claire.  His parents were killed by the Germans and he drifted into Marseille alone to survive.  He begged at first but soon found being on the streets was dangerous.  He sleeps in a shed at the back of the old hotel down the street, where he gets scraps of food from the kitchen in return for putting out their rubbish”, Raymond explained.

“Isn’t that hotel the one where Germans drink and … you know, fornicate?” Claire asked.

“It is.  While they are screwing, Claudel manages to steal from them.  He sees it as a way of making them pay for what they did to his parents.”

“Surely that’s dangerous for a child?” Claire said looking concerned.

“Claire, Claudel may be a child, but he is one of the most street-wise people in Marseille.  He is a survivor.  I suggested he could live here in my cellar, but he doesn’t want to be dependent on anyone else, so I offer him a little work sometimes so I can check on him and then he goes on his way”, Raymond explained.  “I know he will come to me if he is sick or injured.”

Claire was reminded that war had so many repercussions.  The death of adults but also the death of innocence.  She was glad that Raymond watched out for Claudel.  When her order was complete, she cycled away wondering how she would have coped as a child alone in the world.  Her mind was soon back on the work of the resistance and the importance of ending this bloody war.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to smuggle the “parcels” out of Marseille.  The Germans were concentrating their efforts on checking any routes into and out of the area, stopping buses, trains, boats and any other forms of transport. The resistance was having to vary their routes and distract the Germans as much as possible.

There was a particularly complex situation arising.  The operatives on the ground were not allowed to know who it was the Germans were planning to get to the prison on the island off the coast, Château d'If.  All they were told was that this prisoner had a great deal of information that the Germans wanted, and they were to do everything possible to intercept them and get them to Britain.  Several resistance cells would need to work on providing distractions, while a third cell would block the route and a fourth cell attacked the convoy.  Ian was organising the group in which Claire worked.

Their instructions were clear: they were to station themselves outside a club in Marseilles where German officers congregated.  The club was a former hotel confiscated by the Germans.  It had a large bar and served food but was principally known for its German military brothel.  It was guarded by the Wehrmacht – many of the women working in the brothels had been kidnapped and brought to the brothel as sex slaves.  It was guaranteed to be in use by scores of German servicemen at any time of day or night.  Claire felt nothing but pity for the women forced to ‘service’ these men.  And worried for Claudel, because this was where he was living.

Their brief was to block the Germans from leaving the area when they heard the convoy had been attacked.  They considered a number of possibilities – a broken down truck, an oil slick on the road, a fire.  Whatever they chose to do, they needed to be sure that they could get away if things didn’t go as planned.  And they were to be armed.

Claire was to carry a French MAB model pistol, a switchblade and F1 grenades.  She needed to become familiar with the pistol and switchblade.  Ian would instruct her on the use of the grenades.  He too would be armed.  Claire had undergone training in Scotland but now she would be in a life-or-death situation.  There would be no room for error.


	14. Manna from heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we return to Scotland. Jamie finds that it's possible to have positive experiences in a time of war.
> 
> The quote in italics at the bottom of the chapter is from a pilot who was involved in 'Operation Manna' during World War 2. (Source: https://www.460squadronraaf.com/operations/manna/manna.html)

 

 

 

 

Jamie was packing his bag ready to return to his squadron.  He felt eyes watching him and looked up to see his Da standing in the doorway to his room.  Brian was smiling yet his face also had an air of sadness at the sight of seeing his son preparing to leave home again.

The time they had spent together had been one of repair.  The last time Jamie left home had been a time of conflict, but this time there was an air of regret at having to farewell one another.  Jamie swung his bag over one shoulder and took a fleeting look around the room he had regarded as his since he was a young boy.  So many memories in a space.  He took several paces toward his father and they embraced: “I willna leave it so long next time Da.  And I pray that next time I see ye it’ll be with my wife.”

“Ye’re always welcome in this home Jamie.  It’s yours as much as it is mine.  And I look forward to meeting this woman ye’ve spoken so much of.  She sounds like a rare one”, Brian said as he held Jamie close.

They descended the broad staircase side by side.  Jamie headed for the kitchen, knowing Jenny would be there keeping herself busy.  It was a good way to mask any emotion she might be feeling.  He gave her a hug and kissed her forehead: “Till next time Jenny.”

“Aye.  I pray that next time it’ll be ye and Claire, me and Ian together with Da talking about how ye all survived the war.  That’s my wish” she told him with tear-filled eyes.  “If ye hear anything of Ian, ye’ll let me know eh?”

“Aye, I will”, Jamie told her.

Brian went to the door with Jamie, while Jenny peeked through the kitchen window.  They both watched as Jamie walked towards the road, where he’d hail the bus that’d take him on his journey back to his squadron.  When he’d finally disappeared over the hill, Brian buttoned his jacket and called out to Jenny: “I’ll just be going to have a wee chat with Ellen” and he paced out towards the graveyard.  Jenny looked on knowing that her Da would be shedding tears of fear for Jamie.  She knew that because she was too – for Jamie, Ian, Claire and all the other people who were risking their lives.  She sighed and returned to knead the dough she had mixed.  She found it therapeutic and she could allow her mind to wander.

Jamie had plenty of time to think about anything and everything on his journey back.  On arrival at the base, he greeted his colleagues and made his way to Mac’s office to find out his schedule for the next few days, but he was side-tracked by a stranger sitting in Mac’s office.

“Jamie, this is Peter.  He’s come here from Carlisle to meet you.  I told him I expected you back any time, so we’ve been drinking tea and talking about France”, Mac told him.

“France?  Ye’ve been in France?” Jamie asked him.

“I have.  I met someone there who gave me a letter for you.  I was going to post it, but I wanted to be absolutely certain that it got to you so I brought it myself”, Peter told him as he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and produced a slightly dog-eared envelope.  He handed it to Jamie.

Jamie looked at his name and the address of the base and ripped the envelope open.  Inside was a Chanel post card.  When he turned it over there was a simple message: “I love you”.  Nothing else, but that didn’t matter.  This card showed Claire was still alive, she was thinking of him and she loved him.  He looked at Peter with a broad smile: “Thank ye.  Ye’ve no idea what this means to me.”

“Sit down Jamie”, Mac told him.  “I’ll get you a coffee while you have a chat to Peter.”  Mac knew that Peter shouldn’t be telling Jamie anything about his escape and who was involved, so he chose to walk away and let them chat in his absence.

“So, you met Claire.  How?” Jamie asked eagerly.

“I did.  She and others along the escape line saved my life.  I will be forever grateful to all of them.  She and the Scots chaps she was working with were the last of a long line of brave people I encountered in the resistance”, Peter told him.

Wondering who the Scots might be, Jamie asked: “Do you know the names of the Scots she was working with?”

“Yes, Ian and Donald.  Donald was the doctor who treated my wounds and Ian organised my escape with Claire”, Peter replied.  Jamie briefly described Ian Murray, and Peter confirmed that he fitted the description.

“I must tell my sister that Ian is alright.  He’s an old friend of ours.  But I canna tell ye how grateful I am to ye for bringing this to me.  My wife is a rare woman”, Jamie beamed.

“She is.  I can’t tell you too much about who got us out and how.  It’s all very hush-hush and I signed a secret service document agreeing not to speak of it at all, but she gave this to me as I was about to leave France and the look on her face told me it was very important to her.  Having seen your face, I’m glad I delivered it in person.  Any opportunity to make someone happy in this war should be grabbed with both hands”, he said with a kind smile which warmed Jamie’s heart.

Mac returned with a coffee for Jamie and the three men talked about the war in general, and their experiences in particular. 

When Peter rose to leave, Jamie walked him out to a motorbike: “This is yours?” Jamie asked.

“Yes, I rode a _Flying Flea_ in the field but now I’ve got a civilian motorbike”.

“You were a paratrooper?”, Jamie asked.

Jamie knew the Royal Enfield _Flying Flea_ was a motorcycle used by British paratroopers when they were dropped behind enemy lines.  They were engaged in extraordinarily dangerous missions, often carrying weapons and engaging with the enemy to protect others who were parachuting in.  The paratroopers didn’t have a high survival rate.

“I was captured by the Germans and managed to escape, but I don’t talk about it too much.  Not my happiest memories”, Peter said seriously.  “People like me know what important work the resistance does, and I’ll be forever grateful to people like Claire.  Farewell Jamie, I wish you well” he said as he shook Jamie’s hand.

Jamie watched as Peter rode away, then headed to the officer’s mess to tell Rupert about the card.  He had a spring in his step and a smile on his face, knowing that Claire was alive and somewhere in France.

He talked to Rupert, ate with his colleagues and began writingto Jenny to let her know he’d had good news of Ian.  He knew how much Claire’s safety had meant to him and he wanted to share the positive energy with his sister.

Mac invited Jamie back to his office and asked him and some other pilots to do a drop of a different kind the next day – a food drop.  News had come to Britain that there were hundreds of Dutch civilians dying from starvation every day.  Those in rural areas were able to grow some of their own food, but city dwellers were suffering terribly.  There was a huge risk involved.  The drop had to be at an extremely low altitude of 100–1,000 feet and had to be from a larger, four-engined bomber, different from the planes usually flown from his base.  The bombers had been sitting on the tarmac when he returned and now he knew why.  Operation Manna.  They were to deliver manna from heaven.

The bombers would be easy prey for the many anti–aircraft guns the Germans could still deploy in the besieged Fortress Holland. The commanders of the RAF knew the risk they would be taking. The commanders knew it; so did the pilots and their crew members.  The British had called for a truce with the Germans to allow this to happen.  No-one could guarantee that the truce would hold.  It would only take a rogue German with an anti-aircraft gun and hundreds of pilots and crew members could be killed.  Jamie agreed to do it.  He knew how he would feel if it were his family in this predicament.

All the way over the North Sea, their hearts were beating a little faster than usual.  As they approached their destination, they could see the markings on the ground they’d been told to expect.  This was where the food was to be dropped.  The pilots had to bring the planes low and slow down so the crews could hit the targets with the food parcels. Later that night, Jamie wrote an account of what happened to his father and Jenny:

_The orders were to fly in loose, low–level formation. The drop zones were clearly marked. We came in low enough to see the expressions on the faces of the people in the fields. It gave us a real thrill to watch these people as they waved and cheered us on. Of course, we couldn't hear them over the noise of our engines, but on their faces you could see they yelled their lungs out. I can speak for the whole crew when I say it brought a lump to our throats. We knew little about the plight of the Dutch people, so we could only imagine what horror it would be to live under the Nazi regime for five years. To see the people waving at us and to see "Thanks Boys" and "Many Thanks" spelled out with flowers gives you a warm glow. Just sitting there and looking at them brought tears to my eyes, and I'm not ashamed of it, either! To think that today we did good instead of blowing towns and people to hell makes me realize that there is still some good left in this world._

It was the following morning that the ground personnel discovered that a 9 mm pistol had slugged a small hole on the right side of the aircraft, near the tail.  They were all thankful that the German with the pistol, who hadn't observed the truce, hadn't had an anti-aircraft gun when they flew low overhead.


	15. The best-laid schemes o' Mice an' Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From 'To a Mouse' by Robert Burns:  
> "But Mousie, thou art no thy lane,  
> In proving foresight may be vain:  
> The best-laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men  
> Gang aft agley,  
> An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,  
> For promis’d joy!"
> 
> Roughly translated: Things don't go to plan.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Claire was in a small gathering planning the operation they were to perform to distract and delay the Germans in and around the brothel.  With her were Louise, Ian, Donald and Pat.  Louise was concerned with the larger picture, Ian with organising the distraction and Donald and Pat with putting together a medical kit which could be used in the event of injury.  Both Donald and Pat also knew the area well and were good observers of all that happened.

Louise and Ian were arranging a car with number plates from another vehicle for Claire and Ian’s escape.  They were also planning to position a truck close to the brothel which would block the main vehicular exit from the area.  The laneway at the rear of the buildings was too narrow for vehicles.  When she received a signal, Claire was to throw grenades into the rear of the vehicle and then she and Ian were to make their escape.  The truck would contain flammable material and the vehicle’s petrol tank would be full.  The fire and explosion would cause chaos.  Fortunately, the other buildings in the area were either businesses, which were empty at night, or occupied by the German military.  They would be armed in case anything went wrong.

An escape route was planned out.  Claire would be driven to and dropped at a safe house while Ian took the vehicle to an area outside Marseille, where he would set light to the car on another road the Germans might use as a detour to get their prisoner to the island prison.  Ian would escape on foot through the forest and be picked up by another SOE operative.

Their instructions were clear: “Never be taken alive!  If one of you is badly hurt, the other must kill them and escape.  If the Germans catch you and question you, you’ll wish you were dead anyway”, Louise told them.  It sounded so simple and logical when she said it.  Louise, of course, had no idea that Ian was looking at Jamie’s wife and Claire was looking at Jamie’s friend and the love of Jenny’s life.  Claire assured herself that it was irrelevant – they would make their escape as planned.  She was sure Ian felt the same way.

The following evening, Ian and Claire drove to a side street close to the brothel.  The street had been chosen carefully.  It was just wide enough for the car they were driving but too narrow for military vehicles. Claire had a coat with a pistol in her right-hand pocket and the switchblade in the left-hand pocket.  The long scarf around her head and neck was made of a strong fabric which could be used to strangle someone if a silent killing was needed.  It made her think of the actress, Isadora Duncan, who’d died in France when the enormous silk scarf she was wearing got tangled in the rear hubcaps of her open car.  Across her shoulder was a bag containing grenades, spare keys to the car and a balaclava. 

Ian was also armed with a pistol and switchblade, as well as carrying a balaclava, two grenades and the keys to the car.  They walked slowly down towards the brothel, looking around carefully for anything unexpected.  They had reconnoitred the area from every angle several times before during daylight, so they knew what constituted normal in the area.

They saw another operative park the truck and leave it hurriedly on a bicycle.  As planned, that operative would stop anyone from entering the street at the next intersection, telling them the truck was broken down.  Claire approached the truck slowly as Ian watched the front of the brothel to ensure no-one saw her.  She was reaching into her shoulder bag when she heard shouting.  She looked around to see a man running after a child.  He grabbed the child and pulled his trousers down.  It was clear that he planned to sexually assault the boy. 

Completely thrown by the sight of a child about to be raped, Ian instinctively ran forward to rescue the boy.  As he drew closer, the man pulled a gun and pointed it directly at Ian.  The child, fearing for his would-be rescuer, knocked the attacker’s arm.  Claire heard a shot and saw Ian fall to the ground.  He’d been shot in the calf and had fallen to the ground writhing in pain.  The man raised his gun, ready to take a second shot.  By that time, Claire had run behind the man, who didn’t hear her approach.  Before he could shoot Ian again, she pointed her pistol at his back and shot him at point-blank range. 

The man fell to his knees and fell forward.  As she had been taught, Claire kicked away his gun and rolled him on his back to see if he was dead.  Lying on his back, blood pooling around him, she saw Paul Cole – the collaborator whose betrayal of Francois had led to his murder.  She held her pistol to his heart and shot him again: “Die, you fucking bastard” she said through gritted teeth.

She looked up to see Ian being lifted on to a rug by Claudel and another small person – Raymond: “Hurry Claire.  Do your job and get to the car” Raymond urged her.  Only then did she realise that the child Ian had been trying to rescue was Claudel.

She ran to the back of the truck and threw two grenades in.  Concerned that someone would leave the brothel as they tried to save Ian, she threw a grenade through an open window and rolled another close to the front door.  And then she ran to escape the blast and help Claudel and Raymond.

As they moved Ian from the impending explosion, Claire thought of Louise’s words: “Never be taken alive!  If one of you is badly hurt, the other must kill them and escape.”  She could never face Jamie, or meet Jenny, knowing that she had killed Ian.  She’d die first.  

The explosion behind her could have killed her if she hadn’t been quick.  The street was smothered in broken glass, the truck was ablaze, and she could hear screams and explosions from the brothel. 

The three of them – Raymond, Claudel and Claire – moved Ian a little further down the road.  The fire that lit up the street gave Claire a chance to see the damage to Ian’s leg.  He was bleeding but not too heavily, in and out of consciousness and in great pain. She knew that leg wounds could result in amputated limbs or even death, if a piece of shrapnel or a bullet ruptured particular veins or arteries.  From her brief observation, it seemed unlikely a blood vessel had been ruptured.  He would be bleeding more heavily, she thought. She wanted to staunch the bleeding, but they had to get Ian to relative safety first.

When they got Ian to the car, Raymond took the car keys from Claire and jumped into the driver’s seat.  Claire and Claudel got into the back of the car with Ian.  Raymond drove at reasonable speed away from the brothel area while Claire tended to Ian.

She positioned Claudel near Ian’s feet: “Keep his leg above his heart”, she told him.  He placed Ian’s ankle on this shoulder.  “It’s my fault isn’t it”, he told her crying.

“No Claudel.  The man who wanted to hurt you was an evil man.  Ian and I both know that”, she replied.

“You knew him?” Claudel said wide-eyed.

“I’d only met him once before, but he was a collaborator.  And a twisted one at that”, she told him.

Claire was doing her best to find where the bullet had entered and exited Ian’s leg so she could place pressure there to stem the bleeding.  The medical kit they had stowed in the car had a bottle of distilled water, clean gauze and bandages.  Claire flushed the wound, applied the gauze and bandages, then she removed her scarf and tied it around the area to keep it secure.  She saved a little water to wipe Ian’s face then checked his pulse.

Claire had lost track of the time and distance that had passed, until she saw a familiar stretch of road.  Raymond had driven them to the rotunda Louise had shown her when she first arrived at her estate.  Now she knew Raymond was involved with the resistance.  He knew about the secret entrance to Louise’s chateau.  She prayed Louise hadn’t invited any German guests to the chateau.  And she knew that Louise would _not_ be impressed that she hadn’t shot Ian and made a run for it.  More important now was saving Ian.

 


	16. Dear Alexander Fleming ...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Scot, Sir Alexander Fleming, plays an important part in this story. It was he who was credited with the discovery of penicillin in 1928. The wonder drug was first used on humans in the 1940s.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The three of them – Claire, Raymond and Claudel - carried Ian into the rotunda as gently as possible, with Claire’s coat providing him with some warmth.  They laid him on a bench seat and Raymond removed and folded his waistcoat to support Ian’s neck and head.

“You know the passage to the wine cellar, Claire?” he asked.

“I do.  I’ll go through and see if Louise is alone”, she replied.

Without a torch or candle, Claire had to feel her way along the passage.  It felt so much longer in the dark.  Eventually, she found her way to the door which opened to the wine cellar and cautiously tiptoed in.  She saw a light under the door into the chateau and approached it with trepidation.  She was only two paces from the door when she heard the handle turn.  She hid in an alcove, then sighed with relief when she saw Louise enter. Louise turned and pointed a pistol in her direction.

“Mon dieu, Claire!  I could hear someone in the grounds, but I wasn’t sure who it could be.  What is going on?” Louise sighed, dropping her arm and tucking the pistol into her jacket pocket.

Claire gave her the abridged version of the evening’s events, then added: “But the most important thing is getting help for Ian.  I’ve done what little I can, but he needs a doctor.”

Louise lit a candle and placed it in a holder: “I will lead the way”, she told Claire.

They moved through the passage to the rotunda as quickly as possible.  Raymond greeted Louise and introduced Claudel, who nervously bowed his head.

“Raymond, we must get Ian into the wine cellar.  There is an old door in there we can use as a stretcher.  Do you have anything at the apothecary that you can use to soothe Ian’s pain?” Louise asked.

“I do”, Raymond replied.

“Right, well you will need to get whatever that is and somehow get a message to Donald or Pat to say they should come here early in the morning.  Make it look like they’re visiting me as I’m sick.  We can’t afford to have his visit looking suspicious.  What do you propose we do with the boy?” Louise said looking at Claudel.

“He can come with me”, Raymond answered.

“I think he should stay here”, Claire intervened.  “If anyone saw Paul chasing him from the brothel he could be taken by the Germans and questioned.”

The look of fear on Claudel’s face could have won an Academy Award.  The thought of being taken by the Germans for questioning would terrify grown men twice his age or more.  And he had some idea of what the Germans had done to his parents.

“True.  Well, he will need to stay in the wine cellar with you and Ian, Claire.  If there is any disturbance, he will need to go straight into the passage to the rotunda”, Louise instructed.

Louise turned to Raymond: “Do you think it’s safe for you to drive the car back into Marseilles?”

“I will be very cautious Louise.  I’ll park the car some distance from the apothecary and walk through the neighbourhood to see what is going on”, Raymond suggested.

“Alright.  I’ll fetch pillows and blankets for you in the wine cellar.  And a little food and drink.  Then I need to be in the house in case anyone comes to ask questions.  Raymond, when you return park in the woods and walk back to the rotunda.  The Germans cannot see you entering.”

With the arrangements made, Raymond left, and they all settled down as comfortably as possible.  It was several hours before Raymond returned with a bag of natural treatments which included willow bark, valerian and lavender, amongst others.  He placed a piece of clean leather in Ian’s mouth for him to bite on as he applied the herbal mix to the area around the wound.  Claire was impressed at the extent of Ian’s pain threshold.  His tolerance to pain was being sorely tested.

They all managed a patchy but nervous sleep.  About half an hour after dawn, Donald arrived at the house.  Claire heard the knock on the door and recognised his and Louise’s voices as they approached the wine cellar.  Donald set his medical bag down and got to work immediately.

As he examined Ian, his frown deepened.  He took Claire and Raymond aside: “You’ve done everything you could.  I don’t know if we can save the leg.  Whatever we do, the risk of infection is so high.  Claire, Raymond and I have been experimenting with making our own penicillin.  We haven’t used it on a patient yet.  It’s also a risk, but I think we’re going to have to take it.”

Donald took a syringe from his medical bag and filled it with the penicillin.  He injected it into Ian as Claire watched: “He’ll need this to be administered every fourth hour, Claire.  You know how to monitor and dress the wound and keep notes on his progress.  I’ll ostensibly come to check Louise’s ‘mysterious illness’ each day, bring more penicillin and see how he’s going.  If anyone asks any questions, Louise has contracted a skin infection from her psoriasis and that’s why I’m tending to her.  You can’t be at the Mission because you’re required to remain with Louise.  Our story is that Claudel must have died in the explosion, if anyone asks. Alright?”

“And what of Ian?” Raymond suggested.

“He’ll have to stay here.  If the Germans come looking, they’ll find the bullet wound and ask difficult questions.  If necessary, we’ll have to move him into the passage to the rotunda”, Louise added.

Raymond left with Donald, partly to keep the apothecary open but also to continue making treatments for Donald and Pat.  Claudel remained in the wine cellar with Claire and Ian. Claire knew they were taking all sorts of risks, but that was the nature of their work.

When Claire went into the house to make broth for Ian, Claudel would remain with Ian.  While Ian was very sick, Claudel would hold his hand and wipe his body with clean water to bring down his temperature and clean off the perspiration.  Claire was impressed that Claudel never complained about helping her clean up some pretty unsightly messes. As Ian improved, he and Claudel began to talk about Scotland and Claudel’s past.  Claudel rarely opened up about becoming an orphan, but he came to trust Ian.

Donald and Raymond brought news of the successful interception of the prized prisoner, the chaos caused by the explosion, the scrambling by the Germans to maintain control of Marseilles and the impact of that crackdown – which was only partially successful.

The penicillin successfully staved off the infection, but Ian still experienced considerable pain.  Donald thought the bullet may have damaged a nerve.  In an ideal world, he may have been able to do surgery but given the circumstances saving the leg was the best he could achieve at that point in time.  Ian would have to walk on crutches, but they needed to get him back to Britain for more complex treatment.

As Claire was tending to Louise’s psoriasis, Louise asked her: “You were told to kill Ian and make your escape if you had to.  You couldn’t do that?”

Claire bit her bottom lip: “If it had just been me and Ian, I would have been forced to, but the child had already seen me kill the man who was intent on harming him.  Ian had risked his life trying to save Claudel.  I couldn’t kill Ian in front of him, and he and Raymond were already doing their best to save him.  If they hadn’t been there, I would have done as you said.”

Louise smiled: “I see.  It’s a miracle any of you survived really.  But now we have a new problem to solve.”

Claire looked at Louise with a puzzled frown: “Which is?”

“We need to get Ian back to Britain.  It’s too risky to keep him here.  So, how do we get a man in pain and on crutches in a plane?  We can’t get him in a Lysander with his injuries.  He couldn’t climb in and the small space would leave him in excruciating pain.  I’m going to have to send a message to our friends in SOE and see what they can come up with.  Say your prayers.”


	17. The flight of a Flamingo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friends come to the rescue of Claire and Ian.
> 
> I have sped up the writing of this story for a reason: I plan to take a few weeks off writing while I consider whether to continue with Tumblr or move to AO3 alone. I have been writing continuously for almost a year. In the past few weeks, I have seen the comments on cast members of 'Outlander' reach a new low. Caitriona is a liar and her husband, Tony, is gay. They have lied about their wedding. Caitriona is a bigamist - a criminal offence. Evidently she's been called a whore on Twitter. Now some members of the fandom are turning their attention to David Berry and his marriage. These are real people with families in real life. These rumours cause pain, they hurt and they damage people. I know about that as I fought to clear my name for two years and received significant damages as a result of the stress and health issues caused by people who lied about me and sought to ruin my life. So, I will complete this story because I have so many truly lovely readers who deserve that and then I'll make my decision. Thanks for reading.

 

 

 

 

 

 

When the Germans developed a new machine to send encrypted messages, they thought it was completely undecipherable.  The German machine was known as Enigma. It resembled a typewriter that could produce highly encrypted text messages. To use the Enigma, the operator first typed the text. Then, by turning a few wheels, they could scramble the message through the machine. On the receiving end, the other operator would need to set their machine with the same wheel in order to unscramble the message. Codebooks were distributed to message operators so that they could enter in the correct decryption key when receiving a transmission. Originally the Enigma had been invented for commercial purposes, before the German military saw its obvious potential.  
  
If the Germans had stuck to strong standardized operating procedures, their codes would have proven almost impossible to decipher. However, they became careless and that weakness helped the Allies to decrypt the codes.  The Code and Cipher School at Bletchley Park, in Buckinghamshire, had recruited a team of mathematicans to work on deciphering the Enigma code – and they were successful.  Their success had to be kept secret, to ensure the Germans continued to use the code.

At Bletchley, they had intercepted messages to and from German command talking of a shortage of pilots and fuel.  This shortage, combined with an Allied offensive into Holland and the Ruhr, meant the skies over the south of France were not being heavily defended by the Luftwaffe.  It was an opportunity to get people into and out of France while the Germans were distracted by attacks on Germany.

When Mac received a visit from an SOE commanding officer, he wasn’t ready for what they were to ask of him.

“We have two SOE operatives we need to get out of Marseilles, Mac.  The RAF Tangmere pilots are frantic getting spies and operatives into and out of France while we have a window of opportunity.  The Luftwaffe are too busy defending German territory to defend southern France, and one of these operatives has a nasty injury.  The other one is known to you”, Mac was told.

“And that would be?” Mac said, suspecting he knew the answer.

“Claire Fraser”, was the response.

Mac nodded and listened to the provisional arrangements.  Claire and Ian were to be picked up and returned to Mac’s base.  They couldn’t use a Spitfire or Lysander because there wasn’t enough space.  The plane would have to be a larger de Havilland DH.95 Flamingo, a British twin-engined high-wing monoplane which could accommodate someone carrying a leg injury and passengers.  The larger craft required two pilots and a radio operator, who would support them. The route was to be an unusual one and all details of the operation were to be kept top secret.  Landing and turning were going to be more difficult than with a Lysander.

Mac actively listened to all that was said, while in the back of his mind he knew that he couldn’t tell Jamie.  If the mission were aborted for some reason, Jamie would be a nervous wreck.  And he certainly couldn’t allow Jamie to be one of the pilots – he was too emotionally involved.  This was a complex and risky operation and he could only think of two people who he could consider to successfully execute this action.  Himself and Rupert.

He called for Rupert, who listened to all that had to be done and agreed without question.  He and Mac would be taken to an RAF base in Glasgow, given 24 hours to familiarise themselves with the Flamingo and then undertake their mission.  Mac would leave his second-in-charge responsibility for the base operations, telling him that he and Rupert were going to Glasgow for RAF training for a few days.

By the time Jamie returned from a transport mission later in the day, he found Rupert and Mac gone.  He was told, like everyone else, that Rupert and Mac were in Glasgow and had no reason to question it.

Mac and Rupert’s mission was to fly from Glasgow south, down the west coast of England and France.  As they flew over Gibraltar, their radio operator was to check they were clear to continue on to an area outside Marseille.  If they didn’t receive clearance, they were to return along the same route.  Everything depended on activity in the area.

The flight was a long one at about 13 hours each way, but it avoided the areas most likely to be experiencing air conflict.  They would certainly need two pilots to complete it.  At least they would do some of the flight in daylight hours.  They left Glasgow mid-afternoon in order to arrive at their destination in the wee hours of the following morning, complete with food, water, blankets, first aid gear and other comforts.  They had little information on Ian’s condition and how bad it might be.

As they approached Gibraltar, the radio operator made contact with RAF personnel on the ground.  There was some activity in the south of France but most of the conflict was still taking place in the north of France, Belgium, Holland and Germany.  They would continue on their way.  

As they were beginning to tire from looking out for the resistance landing lights, they spotted them directly ahead.  Rupert looked at Mac and smiled: “This is it Mac.  Our moment of truth.”

The radio operator read the Morse code from the ground clearing them and they landed with a few bumps and turned the aircraft.  Donald and Raymond had agreed it was safer to take Ian to the plane on a stretcher, with Claire carrying his crutches and her small bag.  They couldn't afford to risk Ian falling on the uneven ground. Claudel was carrying Ian’s bag of essentials.

With some help from the radio operator, and Mac scanning the area for any sign of interlopers, they got Ian on to the plane and laid him in the aisle at the rear of the plane.  Claire was checking that he was covered and secure.  Donald, Raymond and Claudel were heading for the aircraft door, when Raymond lifted Claudel and strapped him in to a seat: “No Claudel.  You must go with Claire and Ian.  Come find me when the war is over”, he told him.

Before Claudel could respond, Donald and Raymond had jumped out and the aircraft door was sealed and latched.  He heard the engines humming louder and looked back at Claire, who was still with Ian: “It’s fine Claudel.  Time to see another part of the world where you’ll be safe with friends”, she told him.  “Just as well you learned some English.”

He gave her a nervous smile in reply: “As long as I am with you and Ian, it will be alright won’t it Claire?”

“You need not be scared Claudel.  You’ll be safe as long as you’re with us.  Have you ever flown in a plane?” she asked.

“No, I haven’t”, he said with a grimace.  “I hope they know how to drive.”

“It’s amazing”, Claire laughed.  “And Rupert and Mac know a lot about flying.  They are friends and pilots, like my husband.”

Claire stayed with Ian while the plane rose into the air.  When they had ascended and were on a steady flight path, Ian fell asleep.  Claire moved up the plane to sit next to Claudel: “Move closer to the window”, she told him.  He undid his seat belt and slid across.  He saw the occasional flash of light on the ground.

“Soon we’ll be leaving French waters and flying close to Spain”, she told him.  “And then we’ll fly over open water to Britain.  It will take a while, so go to sleep.  Lots of excitement ahead.”  She placed a blanket over him.  He dozed for a while and then fell into a deep sleep, his head rested on her body.

She sat looking at the top of the curly head that rested against her.  She wondered how long it would be before she’d see Jamie again and felt her heart flutter.  She’d been away for over six months and Ian for a lot longer.  But if she was nervous and excited, how must it be for the boy orphan who had just left his own country for an unknown place?


	18. The Chanel delivery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We'll meet again" was a song used in a previous chapter. Well, here it is.
> 
> My thanks to all of those who wrote such interesting comments and messages in response to my concerns about Tumblr. So far, the most practical and helpful suggestion (made by a number of people) is that I use Tumblr solely to inform readers of AO3 chapter postings and then get myself out of there before I read something that riles me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jamie was in the aircraft hangar with a group of pilots and maintenance engineers readying a plane and parachutes in preparation for a possible drop of paratroopers.  They hadn’t received detailed instructions, just a message to ready for action.  A group of mechanics were working on the collection of _Flying Fleas_ which could be used by the first group of paratroopers to be dropped.  It reminded Jamie of Peter, who had brought the _Chanel_ card to him from Claire.  He bit his lip as he wondered what she was doing and whether she was safe.  It was a daily occurrence, that feeling of fear.  Whenever his mind wandered, it was to the thought of he and Claire being together again.  If only.

It was late afternoon and the light was fading.  They’d been at work preparing for the entire day.  Everyone was tired and some were a bit fractious.  All of them were hungry.  Their attention was drawn to an ambulance pulling out of the next hangar. 

The pilot working next to Jamie snorted: “Probably doing a dummy run as well.  It’s nice to know they’ll be ready if we’re brought in in bits” he said in a sarcastic tone.

Five minutes later, a plane was seen preparing to land.  It wasn’t one of theirs, so they all wondered if the ambulance was ready to receive RAF personnel from another base who were injured.  Their base was the closest to the Royal Edinburgh Infirmary.  They stopped working as the plane landed, turned and headed closer to the hangar.  Once the plane had taxied to a halt, the ambulance approached it.

As they stood watching, a radio operator ran into the hangar: “Jamie, Rupert and Mac are the pilots in that plane.  They’ve asked if you can help with the cargo.”

The others laughed as Jamie looked less than impressed: “Why me?  I’ll get the last plate of dinner and ye bastards will have eaten my share.”

The radio operator gave him a smile and added: “Rupert said it’s the Chanel delivery.”

It took a split second to register with him, but when Jamie realised what that could mean he began running towards the plane.  There was an encouraging roar from those of his colleagues who knew the relevance of Chanel.  They remembered the night Jamie lost his temper with the girl who took Claire’s Chanel lipstick from his jacket pocket.

Jamie was sprinting towards the plane when he saw a stretcher being lifted out.  He paused for a moment: “Oh Christ, she’s badly hurt … or worse” he muttered to himself.  He wasn’t sure he was ready to face Claire on a stretcher.  Then he saw her.  Claire was clambering out of the plane with a boy who was holding her hand.  He sped up again.

“Is that your husband Claire?” Claudel asked, pointing to the man he could see running across the tarmac.

“Jamie!” she cried.  Claudel laughed as she dropped his hand, her bag and Ian's crutches and ran towards the tall, red-headed man.  He had no idea why the man was screaming “Sassenach!” but he figured this was a strange Scottish way of expressing excitement.

In their eagerness to touch, Jamie and Claire almost collided with one another.  Jamie caught Claire in his arms and spun her round, then gave her a bear hug.  When he loosened his grip, they kissed one another until Jamie realised Claire was crying: “Are ye alright Claire?  Are ye hurt?”

“No, I’m fine.  Just overcome with emotion – and very tired.  It’s been a long trip and it’s been hard on Ian”, she told him.

“Is that Ian on the stretcher?” Jamie asked.

“Yes, he’s been in a lot of pain, so we needed to get him back for surgery and rehabilitation.  Come, he’ll be happy to see you.”

Jamie kept his arm around Claire’s shoulders, and she kept hers around his waist, as they approached Ian.  The poor man was exhausted.  Claire knew he ached all over, but he greeted Jamie with a tired smile and a raised hand: “Ye’re a sight for sore eyes Jamie”.

“It looks like it’s more than yer eyes that are sore, Ian Murray.  Ye’ve literally been in the wars, man”, Jamie replied as he gently held Ian’s proffered hand and cast his eyes over Ian’s body.  “What happened to ye?”

“I was shot in the leg.  The only reason I’m still alive is yer wife standing next to ye”, Ian replied.

Claudel chose that moment to pipe up: “Yes, Claire killed the man who tried to kill Ian.  Ian saved me, then Claire saved Ian” he said matter-of-factly.

Jamie’s eyes opened wide as he looked directly into Claire’s face: “How?”

Claudel, keen to sing Claire’s praises, quickly responded: “She shot him twice and the second time she said “Die, you fu…..”

“Yes, I think Jamie’s got the picture”, Claire said with a hint of reproach as she placed her hand over Claudel’s mouth.  Undeterred, Claudel pulled Claire’s hand away and added: “You have a very brave wife monsieur.  I wish she had married me.”

Jamie laughed at the curly-haired imp before him: “Well, I’m glad I met her first then.  I’ve no intention of giving her up, believe me.”   

Mac was sitting in the cockpit alongside Rupert: “It was worth that long flight to watch those two reunite.”

Rupert sniggered: “Aye, but right now if I dinna get a couple of beers into me I might die of thirst and exhaustion.  But we did a good job, eh Mac?”

“We did.  A Scot, a Sassenach and a Frenchie safe and reasonably well.  I’m happy with that”, Mac said shaking Rupert’s hand.

When Rupert and Mac emerged from the cockpit, Jamie embraced each of them and thanked them for what they had done.  Then he placed his arm around Claire again – he wanted to keep her close.  He kept squeezing and kissing her, and she loved kissing him in return.

They watched as Ian, still on his stretcher, was lifted into the ambulance.  Mac approached him: “The lads’ll get you to Edinburgh.  I’ll arrange for Claire and Jamie to be driven in to see how you’re going after they’ve eaten.  And we’ll get a telegram to your family, Ian.”

“No telegram, please”, Ian said with concern.  “Nobody wants to see a telegram in the war.  It’s usually a sure bet that it’s to tell ye of a death.”

“True”, Mac replied.  “I’ll see if I can get a car to take Jamie and Claire to the family home so they can bring the news in person.”

A small hand tapped Mac on his leg: “What about me?  Can I go with Claire?”  Claudel’s worried face was looking up, his eyes expressing his fear.

“You can stay with me”, Claire reassured him.  “It’ll be fine.”  She watched as he breathed a sigh of relief.

They were greeted by a cheer in the officer’s mess.  After a meal and a chance to recuperate, a driver arrived to take Jamie, Claire and Claudel to Edinburgh, where they checked on Ian.  He was undergoing assessment and looked more relaxed.  Then the driver drove them to _Lallybroch,_ by which time it was close to midnight.

It was a tired and surprised Brian Fraser who opened the door to find Jamie carrying Claire, who was fast asleep.  Jamie placed Claire, fully clothed, in the bed he would share with her.  Then, he carried the sleeping Claudel into the house and placed him in a bed close to the room he and Claire would occupy.  

After telling Brian that Ian was in hospital for treatment, Jamie promised to explain everything in the morning, then undressed and fell into bed next to Claire.

In the wee hours of the morning, Jamie felt some movement and woke to find a naked Claire in the bed next to him.  Her hand ran across his thigh and landed gently on his genitals.  He gulped and rolled towards her: “Christ, I’ve missed ye Sassenach.  Are ye too tired to make love?”

“Jamie, I’ve waited months to feel you beside me and inside me.  I need you more than you know”, Claire whispered in his ear.

“Oh, I know what it is to want ye so badly that my whole body hurts.  I’ve felt it every day since ye left”, Jamie whispered in response.  “I’ve burned for ye Claire.” 

His hands ran over her breasts and down to her hips.  She shivered at the sensation of his skin against hers.  They kissed and fondled one another, their hands refamiliarising them with every curve of one another's bodies: "Ye've lost a bit of weight Sassenach, but yer breasts are as beautiful and full as ever", he said as his tongue ran over her sensitive nipples. 

"You're still a ball of muscle Jamie Fraser and I want you even more than I did before.  Please, do it now, Jamie.  And don’t be gentle”, she begged him.  He took her in his arms and showed her how much he’d missed her and then they fell into a deep, satisfied sleep holding one another close and smiling.


	19. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire, Ian and Claudel are finally in Scotland. But where to from here?
> 
> One more chapter and this story will be complete.

 

 

 

 

Claire woke the next morning feeling a little dizzy and disoriented.  It took a few moments to realise that she wasn’t in France and that she was being caressed between her legs.  She opened her eyes and saw Jamie looking down on her with a satisfied smile.  His head was leaning on his right arm while his left hand was beneath the bedclothes gently arousing her: “I wanted to watch ye Sassenach.  I canna look at ye without wanting to touch ye”, he told her.

“What a wonderful way to wake up”, she sighed.

As he sped up, she arched her back and parted her legs: “Jamie, please.  I need you inside me” she begged.

“Just a moment longer Claire.  I want to watch ye some more”, he teased.  Then she squealed at him and he hovered over her before entering her with some force.

The air was filled with sighs, gasps and squeals of delight as they spent their first morning in bed together in over six months.  Their sweaty bodies clung to one another as they kissed and reached a climax, then they slowly moved apart and held hands as they relaxed.

“I’ve dreamed about doing that for a very long time Claire.  Waking to ye and making love to start the day.  It was even better than I’d imagined and remembered.  Can I pinch ye to make sure ye’re real?” he asked.

“I’d have thought the noise we both made would confirm it was real.  And I have dreamed of waking to you too, Jamie.”

“I suppose we’ll need to get up so ye can meet the family Mrs Fraser” he said, rolling into her side and kissing her cheek.  “Da’s only seen ye in the form of a sleeping beauty.  I told him we’d tell him and Jenny all about Ian when we woke.”

“I can’t face anyone.  I’ve run out of lipstick and I don’t want to meet your family in the nude”, Claire said placing her arm around his neck.

“No problem.  I still have the Chanel ye left behind when ye went to France”, Jamie said triumphantly.

“Here?” said a surprised Claire.

“I’ve carried it with me everywhere since the day ye left.  It’s been my lucky charm”, he told her as he rose from the bed.  He reached into his jacket pocket and produced the half-used lipstick.

“Jamie, that is so romantic”, she said looking genuinely touched.

“And now ye’ve no excuse to stay in bed.  There’s a bathroom next door along.  Prepare to meet my father and sister”, Jamie said.  “I’ll go down to the kitchen and see if Claudel is up.”

Jamie dressed and followed the homely aroma of fresh bread and fried eggs, reaching the kitchen to find Claudel tucking in.  Jenny was looking on with a smile: “This is his second breakfast.  I dinna think the child has eaten for a week” she told Jamie, as she reached out and squeezed his arm.  “I’ll get ye the same.”

Brian poured a cup of tea for Jamie and sat at the table.  Moments later, Claire arrived looking a little nervous.  She needn’t have been concerned, Claudel had been giving an animated description of Claire saving he and Ian to a captivated audience.  As far as Brian and Jenny were concerned, she was the hero they were anxious to meet.

Jenny strode across the kitchen and embraced Claire: “I have wanted to meet ye for a while, but since Claudel told us of your bravery in saving Ian – well, you are a very welcome addition to our family”, Jenny told her. 

Jenny was swiftly followed by Brian: “Ye’re a brave lass Claire.  Claudel has told us so much about ye.  Everything from throwing grenades to injecting penicillin.”

Jamie nearly choked on his tea: “Ye didna mention throwing grenades yesterday”, he said looking at Claire and Claudel.

Claudel laughed: “Claire is a one-woman army Jamie.  The Nazis had no chance against her when she blew up the truck, shot the bad man and threw grenades in the brothel.”

Brian laughed aloud: “Your escapades get bolder with each telling Claire.  Claudel is your biggest fan, I think.”

Jamie pulled Claire on to his lap: “Second biggest fan, Da.  I am very proud of my wife.”

With the introductions over, they all sat in the kitchen eating breakfast, drinking tea and getting to know one another.  Jenny was keen to get to Edinburgh to see Ian, although nervous to see how badly injured he was.  Claire described his injuries, the home-made penicillin that Raymond had made and the likely damage.  It seemed probable that Ian would walk with a pronounced limp for the rest of his life, and he stood a better than average chance of keeping his leg.

“None of that would’ve been possible without ye, Claire.  I canna tell ye how grateful we are”, Jenny said looking emotional.

“In fairness Jenny, it was a team effort.  I couldn’t have done it without Donald, Raymond and Claudel.  It was Raymond and Claudel who helped me get Ian away from the scene.  Without them, I would either have had to leave Ian to the Nazis or shoot him.”  She watched as Brian and Jenny looked at her in horror.  “I know that sounds dreadful but believe me Ian wouldn’t have wanted to be left to the Nazis.  Death would be preferable.”

Brian put his hand over Claudel’s: “So, you didna say how important ye were to saving Ian.  We owe ye our thanks too young man.”

Claudel blushed as everyone commented on his bravery and Claire gave him a hug: “There is a lot more to Claudel than he shares.  You’ll all find that out soon enough.”  Jamie watched the interaction between his wife and the young French boy.  They had been through a great deal together and the trust and affection they shared was obvious to him.

After breakfast, Brian and Jamie rode over to the Murrays on horseback to share the news of Ian.  It was the way Ian had wanted it handled when he asked that there be no telegram.  Claire, Jenny and Claudel cleared and washed the dishes, waiting for their return. 

As they rode, Brian spoke to Jamie about Claudel: “I dinna know how much ye know about Claudel Jamie, but Jenny and I are concerned about him.  He told us his parents were killed by the Germans, that he’d been living at the back of the brothel Claire blew up, that he’d been eating scraps and that the apothecary, Raymond, had been looking out for him.  That lad canna return to France, Jamie.”

“Aye, well it’s clear that he’s very close to Ian and Claire.  I’ve seen him with both of them and he trusts them with his life.  Leaving France to come here must have been very hard for the lad but staying there without them may have been even more difficult”, Jamie replied.  “I’ll talk to Claire about it.  The lad obviously has a close relationship with her.”

Brian smiled: “I’ve only known her for a few hours, but I can see why ye married her so quickly Jamie.  She’s a beauty but she’s also a brave and loyal woman.  Just dinna let her near a pistol or a grenade if she’s angry with ye”, he laughed.

“Aye, she’s a feisty one.  I canna imagine being without her again.  I’m praying she doesna want to return to the resistance in France, Da.”, he said looking down.

“And Claudel is as well, I suspect”, Brian added.  

They continued to the Murrays, where they gave them the news of Ian.  The Murrays home was packed to the rafters with three generations of family.  It was agreed that they would take their aged car to visit Ian in Edinburgh, picking up Jenny en route.  Brian, Jenny, Jamie, Claire and Claudel would visit the following day.  Petrol was rationed, so driving was somewhat of a luxury.  For the Murrays, seeing their son was an essential.  Brian offered to have Ian recuperate at _Lallybroch,_ where there was more room and better accessibility.  He also hoped that Claire would stay to nurse Ian, which would be a relief to Jamie and Jenny.  He had seen how concerned Jamie was at the thought of Claire returning to France.

When Brian and Jamie returned to _Lallybroch,_ there was much to be done in readiness for Ian’s eventual discharge from hospital.  Furniture was moved, bedding was arranged, and first aid supplies were checked.  When Claire and Jamie went to bed that night, Brian was still pottering around and intent on fossicking around.  Jenny wondered what on earth he was fussing about, but the only response she got was: “Dinna fash lass.”   


	20. The family you choose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter! Hope you'll enjoy.
> 
> I will be taking a break for a few weeks. I posted the first chapter of my first story, 'Head of A Woman', in September 2018 - a year ago - and have been writing constantly since. Over 80,000 hits later (which amazes me), I need a rest and to spend time with overseas visitors. I plan to be back on or about September 14th. As suggested by a number of readers, I will post chapter updates on Tumblr but all work will be on AO3.

 

 

 

 

 

Claire could sense a certain tension as she undressed for bed: “Jamie, is there something you want to talk about?”

“Is it that obvious?”, Jamie asked.

“Tell me”, she asked as she approached him and held him around the waist.

“I know how strongly ye feel about what’s happening in France, and I wondered if ye might want to return to the resistance there.  Do you … want to return?” he asked, looking fearful about the possible answer.

“Jamie, I do feel strongly about the resistance, but my heart is here.  You are my home and I want to be with you, help your family with Ian, and watch out for Claudel. Is that why we’ve been having sex without condoms?” she asked with a grin.

He sighed with relief: “Well, I thought if ye were with child ye would stay.  Then I didna say anything because I wanted the decision to be yours.  But if ye _choose_ to stay, I couldna be happier.  I’m thinking of talking to Mac about winding down my pilot duties.  Rupert and I have been on more missions than anyone else and there’s other things I could be doing that wouldna take me away as much” he explained as he held her closer.

“I love you Jamie”, she said as she kissed him.

“And I, you”, he replied.

They climbed into bed and chatted for a while.  Jamie told her about Peter bringing the Chanel card to him in person, while Claire told him about the first time she met Claudel at the apothecary, and the situation he’d been living in.

“Da says Claudel canna return to France.  Do ye think he would want to?” Jamie asked.

“Not while the war continues.  But he is French, and he may choose to return when he’s older.  The most important thing is providing him with some security now, I think”, Claire replied.  “Your father is a wonderful man, Jamie.”

“Aye, it’s been good to be back at _Lallybroch_ with him and he likes ye already”, Jamie told her with a smile and hug.  There was no frantic lovemaking that night.  They were slow and gentle – and they didn’t use a condom.

As they all ate breakfast the following morning, Brian encouraged them to eat up as he wanted to show them all something.  He took Claudel’s hand and they all followed him to what had long been referred to as ‘Willie’s room’, even though Willie had been dead for many years.  Brian had always insisted the room be left exactly as it was when Willie died, but when he opened the door and led them in Jamie and Jenny were shocked to see it had been reorganised.

On the shelves were toys and books the Fraser children hadn’t seen in many years.  Toy planes had been hung from hooks in the ceiling and on the small child’s table that Jenny had used for drawing in her childhood was Willie and Jamie’s most prized toy: a Meccano construction set.

Brian squeezed Claudel’s hand: “This room belonged to my eldest son, Willie.  I think he would be delighted to know that the family he left behind would offer it to you, Claudel.  We would very much like you to stay with us and be part of our family.”

Claudel burst into tears and hugged Brian’s legs: “Monsieur Fraser, I can stay?  I do not have to go back to France?”

“Not unless you choose to Claudel.  This is your home for as long as you want to stay”, Brian reassured him.

A tearful Claire was holding tight to Jamie, who in turn was moved almost to tears by his father’s offer of a permanent home to the wee orphan.  This room had been the place Brian would retreat to for hours at a time for more than a year after Willie died, and now he had lovingly rearranged it for Claudel.

Jenny chimed in: “Well, if ye’re to stay in Scotland we’ll have to find a Scottish name for ye Claudel.  I canna see ye going to school in Broch Mordha school with _that_ name.”  She made a few suggestions and Claudel immediately chose the name Fergus: “I think this name is good for me as I can become Fergus who is feared.  No-one will pick on Fergus”, he exclaimed as he grabbed a toy sword from one of the shelves.

It was settled.  Now there was the small matter of finding out when the last member of the household would be in situ: Ian Murray.

It was ten days later that an ambulance delivered Ian to Lallybroch.  Claire had been to the hospital to get instructions on Ian’s care and rehabilitation and had readied the dressings and other things needed.  Jamie had undertaken modified duties at the air base and was able to spend time back at _Lallybroch_ three days a week, helping Brian with the heavier work on the farm so Jenny and Claire could concentrate on Ian’s care. 

Ian breathed an audible sigh of relief to be amongst the Frasers, and not far from his own family, and was delighted to see Fergus’ new room.  Fergus proudly showed him each of the toys and Ian sat with him constructing Meccano buildings and vehicles.  They chatted in French and English.  Fergus proved to be the best distraction from his wound.

It was several months later that Brian called out urging them all to come to the lounge, where there was a large radio console.  There was news from France:

 

> _This is the BBC News: News has come to hand that the Free France forces, under the command of General Jean de Lattre de Tassigy and with the support of the French First Army and the United States Seventh Army, have taken control of Marseille and Toulon.  After initially refusing to surrender, the Germans were forced to retreat to the old fort of St Nicholas.  It became clear that German resistance was futile, and the Germans have now surrendered._

Claire and Fergus danced around the lounge room, then ran to the kitchen to let Ian know the news: “I hope Louise, Raymond, Donald and Pat are alright”, Ian mused.  “It’s been a while.”

That evening, Fergus sat outside knowing that Jamie was due to arrive on his motorbike.  He called out to Claire when he heard him approaching and she ran out to greet him: “You’ve heard about the Battle of Marseilles?” she beamed as she threw her arms around his neck.

“I have.  Mac got on to the SOE and asked if those you and Ian had worked with were alright.  Evidently all of them are in good health.  Let’s hope this bloody war will be over soon”, he said running his arm around her shoulders and kissing her.

“Welcome home Jamie.  I’ve missed you”, she said as she held him close.

“I've missed you too but I come bearing gifts”, he said handing her a brand-new Chanel lipstick he’d managed to buy for her.  "You can wear that and nothing else when we go to bed tonight", he smiled.

It was another year before the Second World War ended.  The Battle of Marseille had been a major turning point, as the ports of Marseille and Toulon were quickly rebuilt and used to transport troops, supplies and military equipment into the south of France.  From there, they advanced on to attack Germany.

On 14th August 1945, V-J Day, the Frasers celebrated the end of the war in Europe and the birth of Ellen Fraser, Jamie and Claire’s first child.  Fergus immediately referred to her as “my sister”.  When asked if he would return to France, he told them: “I would like to see Raymond again, but I think Ellen would miss her big brother.”

“And we would miss you too Fergus”, Claire told him as she kissed his head.  “Very much.”


End file.
